Resident Evil: The Burnside Chronicles
by Lordius Dannius
Summary: Life is only pain to him now. It's painful to take every single breath. Knowing that he is nothing but a tool - a monster - leaves him clawing at his head and screaming. He will never return to society. He has no family to go back to. But there is one thing that keeps him from ending his own life: the thought that he may see his beloved Claire again.
1. Prologue

_**Author's note: I don't usually do these anymore but I felt that it was necessary. This was originally going to be a sequel for my other story, "Resident Evil: White Project", but I've just felt more motivated to write a story like this with Steve Burnside as the protagonist rather than a side character. I'll still continue my other story but it isn't really popular and I haven't quite got the plot for it, nor do I have the motivation for it. So here we go.**_

 **-RESIDENT EVIL: THE BURNSIDE CHRONICLES-**

 **~Prologue~**

What a boring day. School hadn't taught him anything yet again. He had just zoned out in most classes and now he was stil daydreaming on the bus journey home. He watched the scenery passing by as he listened to his music through his headphones, waiting for his stop. His stop was one of the last ones so he had quite a while to go.

At some point he returned to reality when seeing that the bus had arrived at his friend's stop. He removed his headphones so that he and Mason Tremblay could exchange a brief "see ya" to one another. Once Mason had jumped off the bus and walked past the window Steve Burnside returned to his world of music.

Ten more minutes and he was finally at his stop. The teen climbed off and thanked the bus driver before embarking on his journey home on foot. He had to walk for about fifteen or twenty minutes before reaching his rather isolated home.

As he arrived at the door he finally turned off his music player, letting himself inside.

"Honey! Steve's home!" he heard his mother call out the moment he closed the door behind him.

"Hello, son!" his father greeted as he made his way down the stairs and to the door. "How was your day?"

Steve forced a rather tired smile, worn out from the day, the bus journey and the walk. "It was alright," he answered. "Nothing much happened."

His father laughed heartily. "I can tell! You look like you've had the life drained right out of you."

Steve sighed and rubbed his head but let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah," he agreed. "Feel like it, too."

"You should probably go and take a nap, sweetie," Steve's mother said as she also came to greet her son. "I'll call you down when dinner's ready."

"Thanks, mom," Steve thanked, smiling at her kindly. He jogged up the stairs and made his way to his room, flicking on the light switch. His room was like any other teenager's room: messy, covered with posters and school work piled up either on his desk or in a corner.

The teenager threw his bag onto the floor and flopped back onto his bed, staring up at his ceiling thoughtfully. He let his eyes flutter before drifting off into a well-deserved sleep.

 _Crash._

Steve gasped and immediately opened his eyes, sitting himself up. How much time had just passed? Was he asleep for long? And what was the sound?

 _'Mom's probably dropped a plate again,'_ he thought to himself as he stood up. But he heard shouting. Screaming.

His father was screaming.

His mother was screaming.

They couldn't have been arguing; they loved each other too much. Had somebody broken into the house? A burglar? A murderer?

Steve grabbed the handle of his door and flung it open, darting across the small landing and down the stairs. He stopped halfway down, his eyes widening in complete horror as he stared at the sight before him.

He could see that all of the windows had been smashed in the front room. His parents were both on their knees with their hands behind their heads. His mother was crying and his father was yelling in anger. Surrounding them were men clad in black and armed with guns, masks keeping their faces hidden.

So far Steve hadn't been noticed, and perhaps he could have made his way back upstairs without any of these men knowing he was here, but what kind of son would walk away from this? Not only that but he was just too afraid to move at this point, still not sure if the scene before him was real. Maybe he was just having a nightmare...

Steve barely had control over himself as he let himself speak out: "Mom? Dad?" His voice wavered a little and sounded like it belonged to a confused yet frightened child. "What's going on?"

Steve's father looked horrified as the men all turned to face the teen. His mother had briefly stopped crying before she wailed once again, fearing the worst as the surrounding men gestured to her son and said something about "getting the boy".

"Steve!" his father yelled as the men ran towards the staircase. "Run, Steve! RUN!"

He didn't. He was too afraid. Afraid of what could happen to his parents. Afraid of what could happen to him. He still had no idea what was happening.

His eyes were on his parents until the last second. He fell backwards as the men ran up the first few steps towards him, but before he landed on his back his arms were grabbed and he was dragged down the stairs.

"Dad?!" he cried out as he was pulled along back into the front room. His eyes were full of terror. His mother wailed and pleaded for these men to leave her son alone, though most of the time it was difficult to understand exactly what she was saying.

Steve was forced to his knees, one man aiming his gun at him. "Hands behind your head!" the masked individual commanded. Steve flinched and did was he was told, turning his head to look at his father fearfully. His father stared back at him with a somewhat guilty expression on his face.

"Please, leave him alone!" his mother howled. "Whatever it is you want, leave our son out of this! He's young, he hasn't done anything to deserve this! Just leave him alone! Please, I beg of you!"

"Shut her up," one man ordered to another man in an emotionless tone. Steve and his father had no time to process the command as they suddenly heard the loud bang of a gun going off. They both turned their heads towards the sound, seeing the man who had been spoken to with his handgun pointed at the blonde woman. The gun was smoking.

Steve was slower to react than his father. He watched as his mother fell onto her front, her blue eyes wide and empty. Her mouth hung open slightly and a puddle of blood suddenly started to form around her head.

He was staring. The world around him had been muffled. All he was focusing on was his mother as the world around him blurred.

His father was calling out to him, but he sounded so far away. He could hear a high-pitched ringing sound more than anything else.

Slowly he turned his head in the direction of his father. While he still wasn't focused he could definitely see that his male parent was staring at him. He was yelling. What about? He could only just make out his name being repeated in a distressed voice.

The faint sound of a gun clicking could be heard. Steve turned his head slightly and saw that in front of him the same man was ready to put a bullet into his brain. He simply stared at the weapon used to kill his mother without reacting. He was still. He was silent.

"Steve!" his father shouted. "Don't you dare shoot him! Not my son! STEVE!"

The armed men looked at each other and nodded silently. The man with the handgun pulled his weapon away and grabbed the redheaded teen, forcing him to stand. Steve's father was about to question what they were going to do with him but found himself being forced up to his feet as well.

"Where are we going?!" he demanded. "Where are you taking us?!"

"You don't need to know, Doctor Burnside," the leading man answered calmly. Steve's father clenched his teeth together.

"Bastards!" he roared. "You're all bastards! You're all going to hell!"

Even while being dragged out of his home Steve remained silent. He was able to walk to avoid collapsing in his captor's arms but was unmoving otherwise. His eyes were on the ground and his expression was still filled with pure fear.

Steve's father sharply turned his head to look at his son. His expression went from angry to horrified. He had done this. This was his fault. If it wasn't for him, Steve and his wife would still be alive. He had pretty much led his family to their deaths.

The two Burnsides were shoved into the back of a black van. They couldn't see the outside world so obviously they were being taken to a secret location. Steve's father could only stare at his son, the haunting look on his face making him feel nothing but guilt.

For some time the journey was silent and the older male had closed his eyes, letting out a painful sigh. Beside him his son was still keeping his head down, but slowly he seemed to return to reality.

Steve slowly lifted his head and looked at his father, that look of fear still upon his face. "...Dad...?" he spoke quietly, immediately catching his father's attention. "Where are we going...?"

The softness to his son's voice broke his heart. He still hadn't processed what was going on. He almost seemed... innocent. And he knew that soon enough that innocence would be taken away from him.

"Son..." he murmured, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close in a protective manner. Steve didn't even react, though finally tears were beginning to form in his glazed eyes. His father squeezed him and rested his head upon his, doing his best to remain strong for his last living family member.

"It's going to be alright..." the man cooed. He knew he was lying, but he couldn't tell his son the truth. "I'll protect you, okay...? I won't let anything happen to you..."

Steve's tears leaked from his eyes. He was pressed against his father, held tightly in his arms. All he could see was the moment his mother lifelessly fell to the floor. Nothing else was on his mind. He listened absentmindedly to his father's hushes and soothing words, but he realised that they meant nothing to him.

He knew that his father had done something to make this happen.

His father's mistakes were going to cost him his life.

 **~End of Prologue~**


	2. Alive

**~Alive~**

"Claire!" Steve howled the moment his body reanimated itself, sitting up and violently waving his arm to the side so that he could shove away somebody who was near him. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea how he got here. He had no idea how much time had passed. What was going on? Why was he here? All he knew was that this situation probably wasn't a good one, so he sprung up from the table he was lying on and darted across the dark room. The redheaded teen threw himself into a corner, staring with wide eyes at everybody in this strange room.

Everyone was looking at him. They all wore clothes suitable for working in a laboratory and Steve realised that there was a reason for that. This ominous room of equipment and screens was a lab of some sort. He assumed that it belonged to Umbrella.

He hyperventilated in fear as he frantically looked around the room, seeing these scientists whispering to each other as they kept their eyes on him. Why was he the centre of attention?

One by one the scientists approached him with caution. Like he was some kind of monster. Could they not see how terrified he was? He was ordinary. He was just another human like them.

...Right?

One of the men in white spoke into a transceiver. "He's alive. The boy is alive."

Steve couldn't hear what the voice on the other end was saying. He saw other men reaching for their guns discreetly, but the man on the transceiver ended his call and spoke up.

"Wesker said he'll make a decision himself," he informed. The others moved their hands away from their firearms, much to Steve's relief. But his concern was now with this Wesker guy. Who was he? And what did he want?

It didn't take long for the man to arrive, and immediately Steve felt himself shrink. He was a tall and intimidating man who protected his eyes with shades, his hair blonde and combed back. He was not dressed like a typical scientist, instead wearing black military clothing.

Even though his eyes were covered with his sunglasses Steve was able to tell that this man was looking right in his direction. Was his heart even beating anymore? He had no idea; it felt as if his heart had just burst the moment this man walked in.

Wesker marched over to Steve without even uttering a word. Steve could feel his body shaking as he held his breath, trying to curl up into the corner as much as he could in hope that he wouldn't be seen. Unfortunately Wesker could still see him rather clearly, reaching down and grabbing the teen by his neck. Steve struggled and choked as this man lifted him up with inhuman strength.

As Steve tried desperately to catch his breathe Wesker examined him closely. With him being this close Steve was able to get a glimpse of his eyes through his shades. They were not normal. They were almost glowing.

After what felt like minutes Wesker dropped the teenager, much to the boy's relief as he rubbed his neck and breathed heavily, even letting out a few coughs. Wesker stared down at him before glancing back emotionlessly at his workers.

"Clear the room," he commanded, "and take any samples of the virus with you."

While the scientists followed Wesker's instructions Steve stared up at him with wide eyes. Virus samples? What kind of virus was this man talking about?

Wesker kept his eyes on Steve until he heard the door shut. This told him that all of his workers had left the room, so he did not hesitate to grab Steve once again. This time Steve let out a yell before Wesker threw him across the room and into a wall. The teen fell onto his side and curled up, surprised that he hadn't been knocked unconscious. The sensation wasn't as painful as he had anticipated but it still hurt him nonetheless.

As he lay there he could only gaze hopelessly as his attacker walked closer. Still Steve had no idea what was going on, but now he had definitely decided that this was not a good situation to be in.

Expecting another attack from Wesker, Steve curled up slightly and braced himself for whatever was next. To his surprise Wesker stopped a few feet away from him, crouching down and addressing him calmly.

"Steve Burnside," he began, oddly calm for a man so brutal. "I didn't actually expect you to come back to life."

Come back to life?

The ginger teen stared at the man, too afraid to question what he had just said. He was only becoming more and more confused.

"It looks like the t-Veronica virus is keeping you alive," Wesker acknowledged. "It must have spread throughout your body while you were dead, yet it hasn't destroyed your brain cells."

 _Dead?_ What the hell was this man talking about?

Wesker grabbed the boy by his face to examine him once again. "Hmm," he hummed. "Indeed. If your brain cells had been killed by the virus then you would be a typical zombie at this stage, but you are definitely managing to maintain your human intelligence. Perhaps this is only a side-effect to the Veronica virus; you may deteriorate in a few days. Either that or you will begin to mutate."

Finally Steve mustered up the courage to fight back, grabbing Wesker's arm and throwing him to the side. Wesker didn't fall to the ground but had stumbled back by a few feet.

"What are you talking about?!" Steve yelled. "Virus?! Mutation?! Zombie?! Death?! You're not making any sense! Besides, I don't even know who you are!"

Without warning Wesker grabbed Steve by his hair and yanked him up to his feet before slamming him back down against the ground face-first. He crouched down, still with a firm grip on Steve's head as he forced the boy to face him.

"Do not raise your voice to me," he ordered calmly. Steve grit his teeth, wincing from the pain before the man let go of him and stood back up.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Wesker interrogated, staring down at the teen. Steve gazed at the ground silently, trying to remember exactly what his last memory was. He was sure that he had just woken up from a nightmare...

"I need an answer, Steve," Wesker pressurized. "Or do you have no memory at all?"

Steve continued to stare at the cold ground as he did his best to focus on every image in his mind. He remembered being taken to prison. He remembered the outbreak. He remembered escaping the island with Claire.

...Claire. Claire was in his last memory. Her hand was on his cheek. Prior to that he remembered swinging a giant axe around while being oddly tall.

Then he remembered. His eyes widened in horror. That crazy woman had turned him into some kind of monster and forced him to attack Claire, but he was able to regain control of himself before...

Being killed.

"I was..." Steve mumbled quietly, sounding shocked and uncertain, "killed...?"

"Yes," Wesker replied. "Yes, Steve. You were. It seems that your mind truly is completely intact; you must remember everything that happened before that moment, hm?"

Steve, still not looking up at the older man, slowly gave his sorrowful response. "Claire..." he murmured. "We were... trying to get away..." The boy lifted his head, his depressed eyes meeting Wesker's face. "Is she alright...?"

Wesker couldn't hold back his sudden smirk. Steve had just showed him his weakness. The older male was definitely going to use that against him.

"She escaped with her brother," he informed, trying not to show his hatred for Chris. "But now that you're alive I suppose I should show her that I kept my word."

For a moment Steve felt himself brighten up with glee. He was going to see Claire again! But then he was suddenly hit with caution. This man did not seem particularly trustworthy. Something bad was going to happen.

Wesker did his best to stifle a low chuckle but even he was not strong enough to contain the sound. Immediately Steve knew that his guess was correct. He had every right to be afraid of this man.

"I will let you see your beloved Claire again," Wesker assured, knowing that Steve was now very cautious. "But I don't think you're ready to see her just yet."

Steve sat himself up straight and almost made an attempt to stand as he once again snapped at the older male. "Of course I'm ready to see her, I'm fine-"

The boy was cut off when Wesker struck him across the face with his fist, knocking him back down to the ground.

"I told you not to raise your voice when speaking to me," the blond man reminded. "You have my word that you will leave here if the virus coursing through your body doesn't kill you. I will decide when you get to leave. Is that understood?"

Steve glared slightly, rubbing his injured cheek - this guy really did pack a punch. But he knew that resistance wasn't going to get him anywhere, so he silently nodded his head.

Wesker smirked slightly. "Good," he responded softly. "Now be a good boy and wait here; my workers will come and run a few tests on you shortly."

Tests? What kind of tests? He knew how inhumane Umbrella tests could be, but not a single Umbrella logo was in sight. Was he even in an Umbrella facility? Or was he somewhere even worse?

Wesker had turned and made his way out of the room, sarcastically bidding Steve a "good evening" before closing the door behind him. Steve assumed that Wesker had locked the door behind him, though he wouldn't have tried to escape even if the door was left unlocked. Right now he was focused on trying to get a better understanding of his situation. Had he really died and come back to life? Was he really still infected with that virus? What was going to happen to him here? He could only ask himself these questions but no answer would come to him.

Deciding that waiting for his "tests" was the only choice he had right now, Steve once again retreated to the nearest corner of the room. He held his legs close and felt his eyes glaze over with tears.

Then he gulped.

Then he sniffled.

And then finally he began to softly weep.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	3. Tests

**~Tests~**

Wesker entered a small office-like room where two men sat by the screens and the panel. They both turned around in their seats to face him once hearing him enter.

Without speaking to the two workers Wesker leaned forwards, wedged between them as he held down a button on the control panel and spoke into a microphone.

"Prepare laboratory four for long-term experimentation," he commanded to the other scientists who worked under him. "The t-Veronica virus specimen needs to be fully examined."

While the instructions seemed relatively vague the workers understood exactly what Wesker wanted them to do, most likely because they had done similar procedures in the past. Wesker could see on the various cameras that his orders had not been ignored, observing as everyone got to work.

His shielded eyes wandered to one of the cameras in laboratory four, portraying Steve as he sat crying softly in a corner. The boy looked so weak and pathetic. How could someone so feeble keep control over such a strong virus? Alexia Ashford, someone already with a strong mind, had to keep herself in cryogenic hibernation for fifteen years in order to successfully host the virus while maintaining human intelligence. Steve was nobody special; the virus should have killed his brain cells when he first transformed, but something kept them from dying. Something is _still_ keeping them from dying.

 _..._

It was so cold. Steve shivered as he remained curled up for warmth, but nothing seemed to change his body temperature. Is this what corpses felt like?

He still had no clothes on, so that didn't help. If he could he would ask for something to wear, even if it was just a pair of used socks, but nobody here seemed friendly. The scientists had all looked at him with disgust and Wesker enjoyed physically harming him far too much.

The door opened. Immediately Steve stiffened up thinking that Wesker had returned, but a part of him was relieved to see that the scientists from before were returning. It was then Steve questioned what was coming next. These people hadn't been sent in here to ignore him, and this thought was further proved when two of the scientists grabbed Steve by the arms and heaved him to his feet.

"Hey!" Steve reacted, not appreciating the way he was being dragged like some object. "Put me down!"

Nobody listened to him. Instead they just lay him back on the table he had jumped from earlier. The boy's eyes widened. He didn't want to see what would happen next if he didn't resist. Wesker wasn't here so he had to try; perhaps he could escape.

He fought back against them. He thrashed and he shoved, doing everything he could to get these people away from him. They held onto him as if their life depended on it, but it was almost miraculous when Steve broke free. He wasted no time in being amazed by his own strength, sprinting towards the door to make his leave with speed almost unnatural to a human being. Again he didn't question it; he just wanted to get out of this place.

One of the scientists must have set off an alarm of some sort because flashing red lights and loud sirens could be heard. Steve did his best to not get distracted, only to be filled with sudden panic when he saw numerous metal doors lowering. He ran beneath quite a few, but he had no idea where he was going. Where was the exit? All he could do was run and hope that he ran into it, but sadly luck was not on his side today. He had to slide under one last door before finally the lock-down process surpassed him.

The redheaded teen was trapped in a small section of the corridor. At first he debated which shutter he should try punching before going for the one ahead of him, striking it a few times with his fists. "Open up!" he shouted. A part of him really hoped that he was no somehow super strong; indeed he was, but not strong enough to take out this metal door. Obviously they were designed to contain any loose threat, including B.O.W.s and other mutated creatures.

The door behind him opened slowly, causing Steve to turn his head quickly and prepare to defend himself. Those scientists had caught up to him. He got ready to fight them but there were too many - so many that he didn't know which one to swing at first. His arms were held behind his back to prevent him from throwing any punches, his head also being held by his hair.

"Get off!" Steve demanded. His yells were ignored once again as he struggled violently, but a sudden stinging sensation to the neck made him freeze. He had just been injected with some sort of sedative. The boy's eyelids fluttered as he fought to remain conscious, but he couldn't hold on. His eyes rolled back and he fell limp in the arms of his enemy, the world around him fading away.

 _..._

His mismatched eyes were on the empty seat not far away from him as he absentmindedly flicked his pencil and let it roll back down the desk. It had been months. Many months. And he still couldn't understand why Steve was gone.

"Tremblay," called his tutor, catching his attention. "Are you listening?"

Mason glanced up, his light brown hair hanging over his left yellow-coloured eye. "Yes, sir," he responded glumly. His teacher didn't seemed convinced but either way he went on with whatever he was talking about. Group projects, assignments, all that jazz. The teen already knew that he had to do some research into the organization known as TerraSave for his group; the group he was in focused on methods of anti-terrorism, and he was stuck finding out about the group which focused on bioterrorism.

The bell soon rang, signaling that it was the end of the day. Mason swung his bag onto his shoulder and made his leave, not talking to anyone as he went to the bus park. Once there he immediately hopped onto his bus and sat right at the back in the corner. Other older students would sit there with him and the younger students knew not to get on their nerves. Sometimes Mason and the others would laugh and talk and joke, but most of the time everyone was just too tired and preferred to sit in silence.

He remembered how Steve would only sit at the back when he was in an active mood. He'd either be a great addition to the group with his laughter and his obnoxious comments or he'd be everyone's worst nightmare, giving everyone an upgrade to their headaches. When he himself was feeling tired he always sat towards the front of the bus listening to his music.

That was how it was when Mason last saw him. The two had exchanged a brief farewell to one another as Mason jumped off the bus to head home. It was a day like no other; nobody had expected what was to come later that day. And Steve of all people... He could be annoying as hell on the worst days but he wasn't a bad guy. He was no criminal. There were other people in his school worse than him, so why was he the one to...?

Mason shook his head as the bus prepared to leave. He had to just forget about that for now. It had been almost half a year since that fateful day. He had to move on.

The teen just stared out of the window blankly until his stop arrived. He said farewell to nobody as he stepped off the bus and walked up the road to his home - it was only a two-minute walk.

His parents weren't home yet; Mason reckoned that they would be home in about two more hours or so. He considered wasting his time playing video games or loud music but didn't really feel up for it, so he decided to do his homework. That would definitely get his mind off depressive thoughts.

Mason sat down at the computer in the study, knowing that he may as well use it now before his father gets home to do some more work. He sluggishly slapped his hands against the keyboard and typed in "TerraSave", randomly clicking and scrolling to find out information.

He found their website. Cool. This would be useful to quote. The teenager decided to scroll down the list of recent projects so that the other students in his group didn't yell at him for obtaining information which was no longer relevant.

There were so many projects - so many that he was almost overwhelmed. It all looked like a foreign language to him with all the strange words used as project titles, but one in particular caught his eye.

Project Burnside.

With it being a recent project and containing a name identical to his friend's surname, Mason clicked the link so that he could read more. The text provided said that it was a project started by one of the lower members of the organization, her name being Claire Redfield. This meant nothing to Mason but he was still intrigued, scrolling down to find a video which he decided to play. In the video a young woman, presumably a few years older than him, was stood at a podium. This woman was Claire Redfield.

 _"This is a project I personally put my heart into,"_ Claire spoke through the video. _"A project I will dedicate myself to no matter what it takes. I have seen enough people die because of these viruses and I'm tired of it. We should not only focus on rescuing people harmed by .s or zombies. We need to help the people who become those monsters!"_

So far her speech was surprisingly interesting. Mason took brief notes on a piece of scrap paper, deciding that this was the only project he was going to focus on. He considered looking for a second project after this video ended, but a certain image on the projector behind Claire almost made him drop his pencil.

 _"The boy in this photograph is Steve Burnside,"_ Claire began, Steve's family photo being shown behind her. _"He was just like everyone else. Unfortunate circumstances landed him in Rockfort Prison where I met him, and unfortunate circumstances turned him into one of the most terrifying creatures I have ever encountered."_

Steve? Mason would have only seen it as a coincidence if it wasn't for the family photo being displayed. That was Steve alright. That was the Steve he went to school with. That was the Steve who suddenly disappeared from his life.

 _"Because of the t-Veronica virus Steve's life was cut short,"_ Claire continued, a hint of sorrow in her voice. _"If we don't do anything more people could end up like him. His body was taken by an organization I have not yet been able to identify, and they plan to produce samples of the Veronica virus to distribute across the world. Whoever they are we must be ready to face the threat. I don't want to see anyone else suffer Steve's fate."_

A virus killed Steve? All this time Mason had been under the impression that Steve was killed the day his house was broken into. Was it true that he had been sent to prison? Why had he been labeled as dead if he was only in prison?

Suddenly everything seemed far too suspicious.

Mason decided that he had to find out more. To do that, he had to get into contact with this woman. She had no contact address displayed, but there was still a general email address for the company. Immediately Mason started typing away.

 _Dear TerraSave,_

 _I am doing research for my final group project and I looked up this organization to find out more about anti-bioterrorism. I wasn't actually interested, but Project Burnside caught my attention. Steve Burnside was my classmate and a close friend of mine, but everyone seemed to believe he was killed in his home months ago. I want to find out what happened to him._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Mason Tremblay_

 _..._

Steve re-opened his eyes groggily, a bright light shining in his eyes. He squinted, his eyes hardly able to adjust at all. His surroundings were blurry, but soon enough he fully came to.

"Scans show that there is still brain activity," one scientist noted.

"No internal mutations have been spotted," said another.

"The virus must have spread throughout his body while he was dead," a third man added. "The cold temperatures and lack of life have weakened the pathogens."

"Thus explaining his lack of physical mutation," the second scientist added.

"But there are still effects," the third man stated. "He is slightly more enhanced than the average human now due to his exposure to the virus."

"Is his mind still weak to deterioration?" the second man asked the first.

"It's always a possibility," the first man replied.

Steve attempted to sit up but found himself securely fastened down to the table. Immediately he started to panic.

"What the-?!" he exclaimed. "Hey! What gives?! Let me go already!"

"Administer a sample of the virus," one of the scientists commanded, completely ignoring Steve. "His body may react differently to a stronger dose."

Steve saw one man preparing a syringe, causing him to struggle once again. "What are you doing?!" he yelled fearfully. "Don't you dare! Keep away from me!"

He instantly let out a yell of agony as the needle went into his neck. He could feel the fluid flowing into him as he began to hyperventilate in fear. A dose like that caused him to mutate before; he feared that the same would happen again.

The scientists decided to leave him there for a good few minutes, one or two of them taking notes while others monitored his scans.

"The virus has reached his brain," one of the monitor scientists announced, looking back at the others. "Any external changes?"

"No," answered a man with a clipboard. "However, he seems very tense. He could be struggling to fight the virus."

"We shouldn't waste anymore virus samples on him," the other monitor scientist commented, "but it is likely that he could deteriorate after a few more doses."

"It's not worth the risk," another scientist decided. "Either he will remain in his current condition or he will turn into something we cannot handle."

"He seems to be the resistant type," the first monitor scientist pointed out. "The new dosage of the virus may have further enhanced him."

"We should move on to test his durability," one other scientist stated. "Heat. Cold. Electricity. Weight. Oxygen levels. We must test it all; then when we weaponize him we can fix any weaknesses.

Weaponize?! They could not be serious! Steve's eyes widened as he scowled hatefully yet tearfully at the scientist who had just spoken.

"Never!" he roared. "I'm never going to be used as a weapon! Not again!"

Now he knew what Wesker meant about him "not being ready" to see Claire again; he wanted to make him kill her. That was never going to happen.

Still, nobody listened to him. They just prepared the next few torturous experiments. Freezing... boiling... electrocuting... crushing... suffocating...

 _'I'm gonna die here,'_ Steve thought painfully.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	4. Tortured

**~Tortured~**

The alarm beeped. Seven in the morning. Mason groaned and rolled over as he slammed his hand down onto his alarm clock before opening his eyes painfully. For a moment he thought that it was another weekday but realised that it was in fact Saturday. That meant that he could have a lie in.

"Mason!" he heard his mother call.

Well, it looked as if a lie in was no longer optional.

"Mason, are you awake?!" his mother shouted as she walked up the staircase. She walked along the landing before pushing open Mason's door, seeing her son lying limply on his front with his arm hanging out of the bed as he always does in a morning before getting up. The woman sighed and shook her head. "Your father and I are going for a weekend trip with a few of his work colleagues to the Maligne Lake. You'll be able to look after yourself, won't you?"

Another trip? His father's company really didn't hesitate to award the employees. At least now Mason was old enough to handle himself without a babysitter or weird old relative watching over him.

Instead of answering properly the teen let out a muffled groan into his pillow. His mother smiled.

"Don't trash the house while we're away," she instructed. "And no parties. Now get up and get dressed - you can't be sleeping all day when you have work to do."

The older woman left the room and barely even made an attempt to close the door behind her. Mason let out a quiet grumble as he sluggishly sat himself up and stretched, unleashing a long yawn. In all honesty he hadn't slept well which explained why he was so tired. That and also the fact that he hated getting up early on weekends, anyway.

 _..._

Wesker stood calmly with his hands behind his back as two of his workers opened a container which resembled both a portable cooler and a bath tub with a large lid covering it. Steve lay trembling in water practically overflowing with ice cubes. His arms were folded and he had attempted to pull his knees closer to him for warmth. The redhead was shivering violently and his teeth were chattering, his eyes wide. His skin was practically a grey-blue colour.

"A regular human would be dead by now," Wesker commented thoughtfully. "He seems to be able to survive in extremely cold temperatures."

The man stared down at Steve, seeing as the boy only stared back at him with wide and desperate eyes. He felt nothing towards him. No emotion. No care. He didn't even pity the boy in any way. But his next decision could be considered as merciful.

"Get him out of there," he commanded, stepping back to give his men room to drag Steve out of the ice. They dropped the teenager onto the cold floor, an echoed "slop" sound being heard as he landed. He was still trembling violently and his teeth were still chattering; the men who grabbed him all thought the same thing about his body temperature: he was absolutely freezing.

After whimpering and shivering for a while Steve managed to lift his head slightly so that he could once again look up at the man in the shades. Wesker was simply staring down at him with no emotion on his face at all. He seemed to instead be in deep thought about what to do next.

"Take him down to the decontamination chamber," he ordered. "There are a few experiments we can conduct down there safely. I will join you shortly; I just need to enter his results into the system."

Steve was lifted up and carried by two men. He made no attempt to resist, knowing that he physically could not move. Not while he had practically seized up. All he could do was dread his potential future here. If there was any future at all.

He was dragged down to an even lower level in this ominous facility. Still not one Umbrella logo in sight. Was this another company which acted in the same way as Umbrella? Just who were these people?

Eventually he was thrown through a door into a tightly-sealed room. He could see vents and fans and what could only be heaters. Already he had a terrible feeling about what was to come as he looked towards the observation window while still in his frozen position.

Nothing happened for a good while. He couldn't see much since he was lying on the floor but he could only assume that the scientists were either preparing one of the experiments, talking to one another or just mindlessly staring at him through the glass. Obviously these men were waiting for Wesker, their superior, before they could continue with his physical torment.

He lay there, thinking about what motivated him. Thinking about what kept him alive. The virus was only part of his return, but it was only responsible for his physical return. The revival of his body, but not his mind. His mind would be dead if he didn't have the willpower to fight the virus somehow. To control it. He was no biologically enhanced weapon designed to survive the mental effects of viruses so technically he should have been a zombie. A puppet. But his mind refused to die. He could not even bring himself to think about taking his own life because his mind was far from wanting such a thing. Something in there was preventing him from turning into another mindless monster. Something was keeping him alive.

Steve didn't hear the door open as Wesker appeared. He didn't even notice he was there. Not until the first test in this chamber began.

"Turn up the heat," Wesker told one of the men sitting at a large electronic desk. The scientist did as he was told and slid one button upwards very slowly.

The chamber began to heat up. At first it was almost a relief as Steve felt his body beginning to return to a bearable temperature, but very quickly the warmth became burning heat. He was able to stand himself up but immediately collapsed, panting heavily. He had to fight it; he had to prevent himself from falling unconscious. The teen pushed himself up to his feet again, this time leaning against the glass window as he caught he breathed heavily. His eyelids fluttered but he was able to stay standing, though he looked as though he was actually beginning to sweat. His body didn't produce as much sweat as a living body did but his pores were still active.

His knees were started to give way and the heat was becoming unbearable. He was seeing invisible waves emerging from the glowing oranges heaters. How hot was it?

He could barely breathe anymore. The boy fell to his knees before flopping onto his front, no longer able to even support himself against anything. His legs had given up on him. He felt like he was...

"Sir, the virus measurements in his body are going up," said one scientist who held a small device similar to a radiation detector.

Wesker turned his attention to this man thoughtfully before looking back at Steve, focusing to see if he was showing any changes. He just seemed to be close to falling unconscious, but a certain expression on the boy's face looked pained. Not in the physical sense but in a way that showed that he may have been internally fighting something.

"Heat makes the virus spread faster," the man in shades confirmed. "So that is why the t-Veronica virus was used in the Antarctic; the temperatures there are cold and can slow down the virus' effects on the host."

Steve was panting like a dog on a hot day, his eyes twitching and squinting a little. He grimaced and was able to slap one of his hands onto his forehead. He could feel himself losing focus. He thought for a moment that perhaps he was just falling unconscious, but this lack of focus felt different.

"Keep turning up the heat," Wesker instructed as he kept his eyes locked on Steve. His worker did as he was told and the group of men were all watching to see what Steve would do.

His sight was beginning to go blurry. His thoughts were beginning to simplify. He was starting to lose track of his own memories. Was he dying? No, he felt like he was waking up at the same time as falling asleep. This was a new sensation.

"He should be turning," Wesker pointed out. "If the virus is spreading he should be turning. No... not turning. Mutating. Not a single mutation has occurred yet."

Steve suddenly jumped up onto his feet and punched the glass, eyes locked onto Wesker.

"Wesker!" he yelled as his fist hit the transparent wall multiple times. He had a fierce look in his eyes as he bared his teeth, snarling. "I'll kill you!"

Not at all threatened, Wesker simply raised his eyebrow curiously. Steve still hadn't mutated, yet something had changed. His behaviour had changed and he no longer seemed focused on any damage to his body. He was purely focused on Wesker. He was focused on killing him.

"Hm," Wesker murmured as he thought about Steve's sudden change. He was almost acting like a savage animal. He was stronger. The man deduced that the rapid spread of the virus within him had finally got to his head and enhanced his body further, but instead of killing his brain cells it was simply merging with them.

Wesker cracked a small smirk to himself. This was a start. Steve was turning into a monster from the inside. With his body having shut down after his death he most likely wasn't going to physically change at all, but internally the virus could still effect him. It had currently activated his primal instincts. It was feeding on his rage - the rage he was feeling towards Wesker.

All Wesker had to do was figure out how to weaken Steve's mind further before he could turn him into a loyal weapon.

Only then would he let Steve see his beloved Claire again.

Wesker's shielded eyes met Steve's hateful ones for a moment before he glanced down at the scientist managing the controls on the desk. "Bring down the temperatures," he told him. "And bring down the oxygen levels. I want to see how he copes without being able to breathe."

Steve kept his wide and anger-filled eyes on his mortal enemy, grinding his teeth together. The hatred he had for the man was by no means false. But with the hateful and primal parts of his mind growing stronger he was starting to lose his human touch. If he stopped fighting the virus then he could no longer look at his reflection and recognize himself. He would no longer be Steve Burnside if he let himself deteriorate.

 _..._

Later that night, Mason was cooking himself some dinner while playing his loud music through the living room stereo. He danced around slightly in the kitchen as he mumbled along to the song, turning up the heat on the stove as he shook the pan in his grasp.

The brown-haired teen put the pan back on the stove as he went to the fridge, opening it to find himself something cool to drink. He looked at the water and the energy drinks but quickly settled with one of the bottles of beer he found; it was best if he made the most out of his parents being away again.

Mason hip-bumped the fridge door to close it as he danced across the kitchen and opened a drawer, taking out a bottle opener to crack open the beer. Once he had succeeded he immediately took a large gulp, shuddering at the strong taste.

The music was so loud that he didn't hear his bedroom window open upstairs. He didn't hear the footsteps descending to the ground level. He didn't hear as someone walked up behind him.

He didn't expect to feel a sudden pain to the back of the head before blacking out. How strong was that beer?

 _..._

Steve had spent the night sleeping in laboratory four. He eventually became weary and fell unconscious. Wesker had confirmed that it wasn't just physical tiredness but also mental tiredness; Steve's mind could not continue with the internal battle. At some point after the heat died down Steve had regained some of his civil mindset, but with the virus desperately fighting to take him over he could do nothing but finally fall unconscious. Some could label the experiments as overall failures but Wesker saw them as opportunities. He had to stimulate the savage side of Steve more if he wanted to keep him that way, though loyalty was tougher.

Perhaps he would never be loyal to Wesker no matter how monstrous he became.

It was rather strange; Steve had been left to rest for the morning. No scientist came into his room at all. Steve woke up briefly at some point but quickly decided to go back to sleep, not wanting to be awake in such a threatening environment.

But something groaned. Steve could heard it. Something was groaning. It didn't matter what it was; judging by the loudness of the voice Steve could tell that it was close. His eyes shot open and he sat himself up from his little resting corner.

A zombie was staggering towards him.

Steve remained with his back firmly pressed into the corner, a terrified expression on his face. How was he supposed to fight this thing? He had no weapons. All he had were his bare hands.

The staggering corpse was getting too close for comfort so Steve quickly stood himself up to run, but as he ran the zombie latched onto him and dug its teeth into the side of his neck, attempting to feast on him. Steve wailed and shoved him away violently, taking a few steps back as he held his fresh wound. The zombie stumbled back onto the ground but lifted itself back onto its feet. It began to drag itself towards him again.

There was nowhere to run. The large room was locked. Steve had to do something about this monster; nobody was going to help him and if he grew tired of outrunning it then he would become dinner. He couldn't let that happen. He had to see Claire again...

Steve kept his eye on the zombie as he made sure to stay at a safe distance. Every now and then he would turn around and look for some kind of weapon.

As if it had been put there deliberately for him to find, Steve stumbled upon a small axe. A hatchet. It was just lying on the ground on the floor of this dull laboratory.

Without hesitating, despite knowing that the tool must have been put there by someone, Steve grabbed the hatchet and immediately ran towards the zombie. He swung the hatchet so that the blade buried itself in the side of the corpse's head, but the monster still reached forward and grabbed him by his shoulders. Its jaw hung as it prepared to take another bite out of the resurrected boy.

For a moment Steve was too frightened to move but he was quick to snap out of his frozen state, swinging the small axe at the zombie again. This time he hit him in the face. The zombie fell backwards, Steve landing on top of it. It was still trying to bite him.

No longer holding back in fear of losing his own life (or worse), Steve began to relentlessly strike the head of the living body as he yelled out in anger. Blood spewed onto him as he struck the face multiple times, watching as the zombie could never be identified as human again. He heard the bones shattering. The sounds were unpleasant and the smell was even worse, but Steve wasn't focusing on anything like that. He was just waiting for this zombie to stop moving.

It twitched a few times before finally falling completely limp, but Steve knew that it was better to be safe than sorry. He continued to strike the deceased monster a few more times, yelling as he did so before finally he slowed down. His yells became breathless panting sounds as his arm fell down to his side, the hatchet slipping out of his grip. The blood-covered teen stared up at the ceiling as he caught his breath, processing what had just happened.

Little did he know that Wesker was watching right now, and everything was going according to plan.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	5. Descent

**~Descent~**

Mason awoke with a great pain affecting the back of his head. His face scrunched up in pain as he sat himself up, holding the agonized area. For a short while he was simply convinced that this was a major hangover, but the teen's assumption was destroyed when he heard a woman's voice.

"Mason Tremblay," she spoke. Immediately the mismatched eyes of the boy opened wide. In front of him was a familiar young woman, the surrounding being completely dark aside from the one light shining above the desk the pair were sat at. Mason was instantly able to recognize that this woman was Claire Redfield, the woman he had made an attempt to contact.

"You..." he gasped quietly. "You're her... You're Claire Redfield..."

Claire nodded her head. "Yes," she replied. "I'm sorry for the methods used to bring you here, but you must understand that I don't want you to memorize this location in case you carelessly share information to enemies of ours."

"Wait, what...?" Mason asked slowly, still in a state of confusion. Where was he and how did he get here?

"You were a classmate of Steve Burnside's," Claire recalled. "From what you said in your email I can only assume that Umbrella are attempting to silence any news of the Rockfort Island and Antarctic outbreaks. If my theory is correct then TerraSave is no doubt going to be targeted; we do not submit to Umbrella or other bioterrorist organizations."

"Huh?" was all Mason had to say. Outbreaks? Bioterrorism? Umbrella? And this all related to the death of his friend?

"You said that nobody knew the truth about Steve," Claire continued. "They must have been told a cover-up story for a reason, and I can only assume that Umbrella or some other large bioterrorist group is planning something that involves those outbreaks. They must know about my new project which ultimately counters with their own plans."

The confused stare coming from Mason made Claire sigh slightly. "Mason," she began again. "I'm going to tell you the truth about Steve and everything that happened during the two major outbreaks. You must remember what I tell you. Tell your family. Tell your friends. If everyone knows the truth then it will be harder to hide."

"...Right," Mason nodded both awkwardly and nervously. What else was he supposed to say in this situation? He wanted to know the truth but a small part of him now felt pressured. The weight he would carry once learning the truth would be tremendous; he would have to spread the word before being "silenced" by these bioterrorist groups being mentioned. No... he had to help Claire. He's spread the word but he would also make sure TerraSave was not targeted. And if Claire's theory was indeed correct then he would stop whatever was being secretly planned.

 _..._

Steve was still covered in the blood of the zombie he just killed. He was currently lying underneath the operating table, curled up while trembling for numerous reasons. Fear. Anger. Cold. Growing insanity.

His stomach growled. For a moment he was startled, confusing the growl for the snarl of another zombie. The teen shuffled from his hiding spot and sat himself up, looking at his stomach. He felt something tug at his heartstrings as he laid eyes upon a large scar.

That was the remainder of the fatal wound that killed him.

Steve ran his pale hand along the scar slowly, expecting it to still hurt. It didn't. Not physically, at least. Instead he felt an emotional pain. That scar was going to be there forever. Every day, if he survived for long enough, he would look upon that mark. He would be reminded of the day he transformed into a disgusting beast and attacked his beloved Claire. He would remember the painful moment when his consciousness returned and a tentacle pierced through his abdomen.

The young redhead had to look away and tightly close his eyes. He couldn't stand remembering that day. He hated remembering everything. The moment he arrived in Rockfort Island symbolized the beginning of hell for him. The only good thing to ever happen to him during those months was meeting Claire.

Again his stomach growled. Could he really be hungry? Would hunger hurt him even more if he didn't eat? Would not eating kill him?

Again. It growled again. The boy curled up slightly; it was actually starting to hurt, regardless of whether or not it was just psychological pain.

Steve attempted to look into one of the cameras within the room. "Food," he murmured. "Please."

Wesker had heard his plea. The scientists had heard his plea.

But they did not respond.

No food came to him. No voice spoke to him, not even to taunt him for begging. It was just deadly silent.

His stomach growled again. He knew that he had to eat soon or else something bad would happen. Steve didn't know what would happen exactly but he knew that it wasn't a good thing. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"Come on!" he yelled. "You can't just let me starve!"

As expected nobody responded to him. Nobody brought him food. The teen ran both his hands through his ginger hair in a frustrated manner, desperate for something to eat.

His eyes wandered slowly to the corpse in the room with him...

No. There was no way he could seriously be considering that already.

...But he was.

His stomach growled again and it hurt him. The pain actually made him grimace.

Slowly and hesitantly the teenager crawled over to the body, inspecting it like a starving wild scavenger. The smell of the flesh... fueled his hunger. He had expected to be repulsed, yet here he was - licking his lips as he gazed down at the unmoving form.

His mouth opened slightly and he leaned down but immediately he shuffled away. No! He couldn't! What kind of sick-minded person would eat a rotten dead body?!

 _...But he was so hungry._

Shakily he clasped his hands around one of the zombie's arms and lifted it. The smell was _good._ He actually sniffed the limb for a while before once again letting his mouth open wide.

It was now official. Steve was succumbing to his undead desires.

 _..._

Mason had listened to everything. Twice. And he was still in shock. Right now he was still processing what Claire had just told him. Twice.

Steve wasn't killed that night. Only his mother was killed. He and his father were taken away to a secret prison on an island and there an outbreak of a virus occurred before any torture could be forced upon the pair. Steve was able to survive but his father was infected, therefore Steve had no choice but to kill him. And after a failed escape attempt Steve was infected with a more powerful virus which turned him into a grotesque monster. That's when he finally died.

"Now do you understand?" Claire asked him. "Everyone who knew Steve was lied to because Umbrella wanted to hide something. It's no coincidence that they all heard the same story of him being killed in his home. It's about time everyone knew the truth."

"I... I guess I'll have to go ahead and tell everyone myself..." the teen boy muttered, still in shock. He didn't want to imagine one of his friends meeting the fate described to him.

"It might be difficult," Claire admitted before handing Mason a mobile phone. "Here. Take this. It's so you can contact me when necessary. If nobody is convinced by your words then give me a call so I can do something myself. And whatever you do, do not lose this phone. Is that clear?"

Mason glanced at the phone and then looked back at Claire, nodding his head. "Yeah, that's as clear as it can be..." he responded. It was clear yet it all still didn't make sense. Why Steve? Why did Steve have to die like that? Why was he now involved in some top-secret stuff when he was just a student? Not long ago he was only concerned about his grades, and now he's concerned about viruses and being caught and all that.

Claire smiled slightly at the younger individual. "Mason," she began. "I know that this is a lot to take in, but it's okay. With your help, TerraSave can shut down bioterrorist organizations. You might be able to change the world in the future. But I guess for now you should just finish that project of yours; we may see each other again soon."

"I hope we do," Mason replied quietly. "I... I don't think I can just carry on like life is normal now... I might join TerraSave when I graduate."

Claire chuckled softly. "We could do with more people working for us," she admitted. "We're still a growing organization, but I'll gladly recommend you if you apply to work for us."

"Thanks," Mason thanked with a small smile. He watched as Claire stood herself up.

"I hope you don't mind being blindfolded while you leave," she said. "It's a safety procedure to make sure this place stays secret."

"That's fine, I guess," Mason shrugged before muttering: "It's not like I have a choice."

He did as Claire was told and was led out of the room with a blindfold on. He said his farewells to Claire and she said hers to him before he was driven back to his home town. If his parents asked where he had been he'd just have to tell them he was out with a few friends.

 _..._

Curled up and in a corner, Steve was trembling and hyperventilating. What had he done? A mauled corpse now lay a few feet in front of him. He had just eaten away at the flesh of a zombie. No... a man. That creature was once a person no different to him. The poor guy hadn't even been buried properly; he had only become somebody's meal.

"Enjoy your meal, Steve?" Wesker's voice spoke through the intercom. Steve grit his teeth and looked around defensively.

"Shut up!" he cried out. "You made me do that! You made me _eat_ somebody!"

Wesker could be heard laughing to himself. "I did nothing," he corrected. "You could've left that body alone if you really wanted to. You could've even refused to kill him, but instead you brutally hacked him with that axe and you then proceeded to eat him. Why not let yourself starve to death, hm? You have nothing to life for. You don't even want to live. Or do you?"

His question caught Steve off guard, making the boy tense up and widen his eyes.

"You have no family and all of your friends believe you to be dead," Wesker pushed. "Oh wait! Don't tell me: you are still fighting for survival because you hope to see your beloved Claire again?"

"SHUT UP!" Steve screamed, no longer able to contain his rage. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut _up_!"

Again Wesker only laughed. "You poor little weakling," he insulted. "The only thing making you resistant to the virus is your _love_ for Claire Redfield. How amusing. Well, we'll see how much she loves you when she finds you feasting upon a human corpse."

"No!" Steve wailed. "I'm never eating a person ever again! Never!"

"We'll see about that, Steve Burnside," Wesker last said before switching off the intercom. Steve could only let out a hopeless wail of despair as he began to weep loudly. Wesker would only continue to bring out his primal instincts.

Wesker would turn him into a monster.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	6. Investigation

**~Investigation~**

 _3 months later..._

Mason sat in the back of a helicopter with Claire Redfield, wearing his usual black leather jacket and red shirt with jeans. He should really have been wearing a uniform because right now he was actually doing a job directly for TerraSave. Claire had contacted after school and had told him that she had received information regarding a new virus production.

A rival company to Umbrella had recently abandoned a facility, leaving behind enough evidence to shut the company down. The task should be simple enough: enter the facility and take as much evidence as possible. This company was going down.

The pilot landed the helicopter just outside the building, allowing the pair to hop out and make their way inside. Once the sound of the helicopter's engine was no longer audible they finally began to speak to each other.

"Why was the facility abandoned?" Mason asked, heaving open the large door. "Something terrible could've happened here, y'know."

"Nobody was killed or infected with anything, from what I was told," Claire replied. "I heard that the people behind the production of this new virus were afraid of being discovered after one of the employees leaked some information out to the public."

"And they didn't take the virus with them?" Mason questioned, not sounding comfortable.

"They most likely took a few samples with them," Claire clarified. "Once we take what we need from this facility we'll go after those criminals and stop them from mass-producing the virus."

"Hopefully," Mason muttered as he switched on his flashlight. The building was dark and quiet. Too quiet, really.

In the first few rooms the pair entered nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No containers were smashed and no furniture was left lying on the ground. It really was just an abandoned facility.

But as the duo moved further inside they were both immediately hit with a sense of fear.

Glass was everywhere. Claw marks were everywhere. Loose documents and files were everywhere. Broken furniture was everywhere.

"Looks like we might have company," Claire announced, taking out her handgun, much to Mason's surprise. While still in a state of confusion he was passed his own handgun.

"Here," Claire continued. "Just in case something runs at you instead of me."

"You brought guns?" Mason asked, finally shaking off his feeling of surprise.

"Of course I did," Claire told him. "It's always best to bring a gun even if you don't expect to run into a foe."

"Huh," was all Mason had to say in response as he admired the gun in his hand. Claire continued to cautiously investigate the area, trying to salvage any documents which hadn't been torn up.

"Nothing useful," she sighed, looking back at the younger individual. "Find anything interesting?"

Mason hadn't actually been looking so immediately started to look around. "Nope, not at all," he replied, pretending that he had been searching while she was looking through some of the documents. "There must be something though, right?"

"There'll be some virus samples and reports somewhere in this building," Claire stated. "Let's split up. This place isn't extactly infested with B. and zombies, so we should be okay."

"And what if I run into something?" Mason questioned.

"I'm sure I'll either hear you shooting or screaming," Claire answered almost coldly but with a small laughter. Mason looked nervous but simply scratched the back of his head.

"Right," he said awkwardly. "We'll meet up by the entrance when we're done, yeah?"

"Sure," Claire nodded.

"Alright then," Mason responded. "I'll check the rooms we passed by earlier. You can look through this mess."

"Yeah, it's probably better for me to search in these areas," Claire agreed. "I've done things like this before. It's your first official mission for TerraSave so you should be taking it easy."

"Heh," Mason smiled. "Well, I'll meet you at the entrance to this facility as soon as I can, Claire. Good luck!"

With that, Mason turned on his heel and sprinted away. Claire watched him leave before returning to her search; surely there was _something_ here.

 _..._

Investigating the undamaged areas was easy. All Mason had to do was open drawers, cabinets and boxes in search of either useful documents, tapes or samples of the virus which was supposedly being worked on, according to certain reports.

There was barely anything useful. With there being pretty much no power to the building he had to solely depend on his flashlight, which in all honesty was somewhat terrifying considering the fact that some beast was possibly loose in this building.

For a while there was nothing, even when Mason checked other rooms. Perhaps the people who abandoned this place were smarter than Claire had originally thought; they may have taken everything important on purpose.

Eventually Mason wandered into a computer room with black screens. Obviously they weren't working due to the lack of power, but for some reason...

One was on.

The screen was just static. White noise. Mason's non-symmetrical eyes locked onto the small screen for a moment as he slowly tilted his head. Why was it on?

Mason wasn't the best when it came to using technology so he didn't focus on the screen for too long, but the boy soon found a tape on a shelf. Conveniently it was by itself with nothing else accompanying it. Mason picked it up and examined it, seeing that it was still intact with a very clear label: "Lab Room #4: Camera 3".

Mason glanced back at the active screen, seeing a slot just beneath it - perfect for sliding in a video tape. He pushed the tape inside and stepped back, waiting for something to happen as he stared at the screen. Nothing happened at first so Mason planned to move on, but then the screen displayed a clear view of a laboratory.

 _"What are you doing?!"_ cried out a familiar voice from the video. _"Don't you dare! Keep away from me!"_

Mason squinted his eyes to see what was going on. Men in white coats seemed to be gathered around something. A table. Bare legs were attempting to kick these men away - somebody was _on_ the table, and they clearly hadn't consented to whatever was going on.

The men injected something into the person on the table, but nothing happened. Mason could barely understand their jargon but was able to understand that the virus was supposed to make the specimen transform. That didn't happen.

 _"Never!"_ that same voice yelled again after the scientists talked with each other about future tests to put the boy through. _"I'm never going to be used as a weapon! Not again!"_ The scientists ignored him.

The clip became distorted and awkwardly transitioned to a new video taken from the same angle but obviously on a different day. The next video was not as clear, but Mason was able to witness some kind of fight. One person eventually picked up an axe and hacked the other individual to death - a sight which made Mason jump despite the footage being incredibly fuzzy.

Again an awkward transition occurred before another video played. The survivor of the fight was feasting on the body of the loser.

That clip was quick to end as it transitioned to another clip. The transition was longer than the others and for a moment it looked as if the television screen had returned to just showing static, but Mason was caught off guard as the final clip played.

This time the footage was clear. The laboratory was now a mess and was covered in blood and bones. A snarling sound could be heard as numerous men seemed to surround something in a corner.

 _"Sedate him,"_ commanded a man wearing shades. One man nodded and leaned into the corner, presumably to inject the _thing_ with a sedative. The snarling sound came to a gradual halt before the humanoid being was lifted up and carried out of the room.

 _"Sir, are you wounds severe?"_ asked one scientist who hadn't helped out with removing the vicious individual.

 _"No,"_ the man in shades answered. _"I will heal in time. There is nothing the boy could do to fatally wound me, as much as he desires to."_

 _"His lack of loyalty to you is a problem,"_ the scientist pointed out. _"How are we supposed to use him as a weapon if he is disobedient to us?"_

 _"We keep ourselves out of his sight,"_ the man in sunglasses replied simply _. "When we put him to use we will simply let him loose in an area and shoot him with a tranquilizer when we are done using him."_

 _"Very well,"_ responded the scientist. _"I'll help the others secure him so that we don't have any incidents while travelling to South America."_

The screen went fuzzy and returned to displaying nothing but static. The tape was over. Mason was only confused, having no understanding of anything going on in the clips. Perhaps it was best for him to tell Claire; she'd probably have a better understanding of the footage.

 _..._

While searching the torn rooms, Claire had been able to pick up a small number of vials containing samples of viruses. None of them were labelled so she had no idea what the viruses actually were, but as soon as she took the evidence back to TerraSave she would have them scanned.

She heard footsteps running towards her and immediately turned around, pointing her gun. The young Redfield was ready to fire, her eyes narrowed, but as she prepared to pull the trigger she saw that the source of the sound was Mason.

"Oh, it's you," she sighed, lowering her handgun after Mason jumped at the sight of it.

"Careful where you point that thing, you could've put a bullet through my head if you fired!" the boy reacted, quickly calming himself down to inform the young woman of his discovery. "Listen. I had to come and find you because I found some weird footage."

"Footage?" Claire queried. "Footage of what?"

"Some kind of experiment that went on here," Mason answered, pacing slightly. "I couldn't see the subject but he was pretty much just a regular human, but from what I could understand something bad happened to him and he... well, he changed a little."

Claire frowned a little. "Show me," was all she said in response to Mason. Mason nodded his head, understanding the girl.

"Alright, this way!" he replied, turning and sprinting back towards the room he had just come from.

Upon arriving in the room, Mason replayed the footage he witnessed. The look in her eyes made it clear that she understood what was happening, and she also recognized the man in shades.

"Wesker..." she muttered when the man was first seen.

"Who?" Mason asked, only to fall silent when Claire raised a hand to him while keeping her focus on the video. The teen decided to let her finish watching it before engaging in a conversation.

The video came to an end. Claire turned on her heel and started marching out of the room, expecting Mason to follow closely. "I need to check our records to see if there have been any recent bioterrorist attacks in South America," she stated.

"Huh?" Mason reacted in a clueless tone.

"The man in the video was Albert Wesker," Claire explained. "He's an old enemy of my brother's and he's been causing trouble for some time. I wanna find out what he's up to; he's probably going to unleash that creature somewhere and cause another virus outbreak."

"...I see," Mason nodded, somehow managing to understand the new information he had been given. "So, are we gonna go after him or something?"

"You probably shouldn't, you're still new to all this," Claire responded as she marched towards the facility's exit. "But I'm definitely going to see what Wesker is up to; it can't be anything good."

"I wanna help," Mason told her, catching her by surprise.

"I'm pretty sure you've got an education to finish," Claire joked once she had recovered from her shock at Mason's determination. Mason let out a small chuckle at her comment, shaking his head.

"I'm being serious," he admitted. "I'm not gonna live a normal life, y'know. I think working a full-time job at TerraSave is perfect for me; I wanna help people. I don't want anyone to suffer because of bioterrorism."

"Yet three months ago you didn't even know anything about TerraSave," Claire countered playfully.

Mason did laugh but he was quick to try returning to his serious tone. "Look, I know I didn't care that much back then but now that I know about what's going on I can't just act like I don't know. I really don't want anyone else to end up like Steve; he was my buddy. Nobody else should lose their buddy like I did."

Claire looked saddened by the comment as she stepped out of the facility. "I can agree with you on that," she murmured as she approached the helicopter which was waiting for them. The pair climbed back into the vehicle, silent when they took their seats aside from Claire having a brief conversation with the pilot.

Once everyone was ready they began heading back to TerraSave headquarters, but Claire realised that she had received a message on her phone (which had been kept on silent while she explored the facility). Claire played the message and listened to it closely, struggling to hear it over the noise of the helicopter's engine. Fortunately she was able to just hear it, but unfortunately the message itself was terrible.

 _"There's been an attack on a small village in Chile. According to the distress signal a B.O.W. is terrorizing the place and carries some kind of virus. It needs to be dealt with now before the virus spreads."_

"Duke, we need to get this helicopter to Chile right now," Claire immediately commanded to the pilot.

"Huh?" Mason reacted. "What's happening?"

"An attack," Claire revealed. "An attack in South America. That's where Wesker was supposedly heading; this must be an attack led by him!"

Mason's eyes widened with worry but he nodded his head in understanding. This was an emergency. No doubt other units were being sent out to help as well so there was no need to return to TerraSave first for supplies; there was already a few emergency kits in the helicopter, anyway.

Whatever this threat was, Claire and Mason would deal with it.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	7. Result

**~Result~**

Mason had taken a nap during the flight, only to be nudged multiple times by Claire so that he would awaken. He did so, looking out of the window to see what looked like a morning sun as the helicopter began to descend.

"We're here," the young woman announced. "This is where the village is. I hope it's not too late to save some of the villagers..."

"Ah, I'm sure we've made it on time..." Mason yawned as he stretched out his arms to wake himself up. "It's not like everyone can always be saved in such desperate times, but I bet some people are still there."

"We need to evacuate everyone once we're there," Claire stated. "I doubt that anyone remains without an injury, so we need to get ready to use our emergency treatment kits; if anyone's been bitten or scratched by the B.O.W. they will become a zombie if we don't heal them."

"Yeah," Mason nodded as the helicopter became low enough for the pair to jump out, taking the smaller kits with them as they sprinted towards the village. People could be heard crying and screaming as they ran around either searching for loved ones or looking for help. Everyone seemed relieved at the sight of Claire and Mason, their words difficult to understand as they yelled over each other. However, both of the TerraSave workers realised that the villagers were pointing in the same direction, some of them even attempting to lead the duo towards one of the buildings.

"What's going on?" Mason asked. "What are they pointing at?"

"Let's go and see," Claire responded simply as she marched towards the building. When she and Mason were close enough it was evident that the villagers were keeping away from the structure, much to their concern. Claire glanced back at them before staring cautiously at the tightly-closed wooden door.

"...Well?" Mason queried before seeing Claire raise her handgun slowly.

"I think they're trying to tell us that the B.O.W. is in here," the woman responded, suddenly kicking the door as hard as she could and pointing her gun.

There was nothing.

Claire slowly lowered her gun as Mason warily entered the house-like structure.

"...Huh," he reacted awkwardly. But Claire did not let her guard down just yet. She stepped through the building slowly, seeing that the building had been trashed. Here and there furniture was torn and smashed - the B.O.W. had definitely been in this building.

A sound was heard. Claire raised her hand swiftly, signalling for Mason to be still and silent. He understood the command and froze, listening to the faint noise which sounded as if it was coming from the ground. Claire slowly lowered her gaze to the floor and spotted something: a trap-door which must have led into a basement.

The young Redfield slowly stepped towards the door, kneeling down and lifting it so that it was fully open. Mason hadn't been commanded to follow her yet, though his expression was one of complete worry and he almost danced on the spot, itching to follow her so that she wasn't alone. He grew even more worried when Claire placed her gun back in its holster so that she could begin climbing down the ladder.

"Claire!" he whispered loudly, but she seemed to completely ignore him. She climbed down carefully and quietly, heading into the darkness of the basement.

She could barely see anything, but she could hear something. A squelching sound. A crunching sound. It sounded as if somebody was biting into an apple, but also it sounded like somebody was eating something incredibly mushy.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness Claire was able to make out the silhouette of a humanoid creature, hunched over whatever it was eating. Claire's eyes only widened as she sharply breathed in a gasp, realising what it was: a corpse. While the figure seemed human it was definitely a zombie of some sort. No... this was the B.O.W. she was after.

Swiftly Claire raised her handgun, but the creature had heard her gasp and had quickly turned around, its glowing yellow eyes locked onto her. Claire fired three rounds and managed to hit the creature, but because it had moved she didn't know where she had hit it. She was about to fire again, but the monster scurried behind some form of furniture - a fallen table, most likely. Clearly this thing could see in the dark. And Claire could not.

Claire began to back away slowly, cautious that the creature would attack her from behind. She was aiming to press her back against the wall, but some other obstacle was directly behind her, small enough for her to trip over. Her sudden fall caught the creature's attention as it bounded towards her like a monkey or a bear, pouncing on her and biting her savagely in the shoulder. Despite her toughness she couldn't help but let out a scream of pain as she wrestled with whatever this thing was, only catching a glimpse of it's pale and corpse-like skin.

"Claire?!" Mason called out from above, jumping down to come to Claire's aid. He reached for his torch and switched it on, but the B.O.W. was now focused on him. It knocked him down and caused him to drop his flashlight, though it didn't seem focused on finishing him off. With three bullet wounds it was obviously aware of its own state of weakness, so it darted into the darkest corner of the room.

Mason quickly scrambled back up to his feet, dashing over to Claire and helping her stand. "Are you alright?!" he asked, sounding greatly panicked. "You're bleeding!"

"I'll be fine," Claire panted. "It's nothing; it can be treated easily."

The pair, in unison, turned their heads to slowly face the corner where the creature was crouching. It golden eyes stared coldly as it emitted a human-like growling sound. Claire stepped towards it cautiously, readying her handgun.

"Claire, be careful!" Mason said to her. "It could bite you again!"

"It won't," Claire replied coldly. Her eyes narrowed as she fired her gun, but the creature was swift. It sprung from the corner and landed on her, gripping her shoulders as it pinned her to the ground. Claire's eyes went wide, but her heart almost stopped when finally seeing the face of the B.O.W. thanks to the dropped flashlight.

Time seemed to slow down. There he was. His eyes may have been monstrous and identical to the cold eyes of Albert Wesker's but other than that he was unchanged. He was wearing torn rags dissimilar to the attire Claire was familiar with. His skin was pale and zombie-like but she had seen him like that before.

His expression seemed to soften in the moment. His bared and blood-stained teeth were slowly hidden away by his lips as his scarlet-rimmed irises stared right into Claire's eyes. He wasn't going to hurt her.

"Claire, watch out!" hollered Mason's voice. Claire had no time to react as she heard the sound of his gun clacking, the redheaded boy above her letting out a yelp of pain as it fell onto his side.

"No!" she cried, instantly sitting herself up. She reached over and rolled the young male onto his back, shaking him as tears welled up in her eyes.

Mason remained completely confused as he made his way over to his ally, gun still in his hands. He hadn't identified the B.O.W. due to not having a great angle to see his face. "Claire-" he began, only to be interrupted as the tearful face of the female Redfield sharply turned to face him.

"Stay back and don't hurt him!" she commanded, seeing the boy flinch. "It's Steve, Mason! The B.O.W. is Steve!"

Mason stared in complete disbelief, managing to look over Claire's shoulder as she suddenly burst out sobbing. She was right. The wounded creature was, without a doubt, Steve Burnside.

He had no idea what to feel. Relief? Joy? Guilt? Sorrow? Fear? This was still the creature which had savagely attacked this village. This was the monster he witnessed being created in the video footage back in the abandoned facility. Yet... this was also his friend. This was the friend he believed was dead.

Listening to Claire's broken wails of pain and twisted relief almost made him shed a few tears himself, but he wasn't known as someone to be particularly emotional. All he could do was stare as Claire sat there on the floor, now with Steve laying across her lap.

"Help the others," she ordered through her weeping. "Treat the wounded. Go!"

Mason stayed there for a few seconds before slowly stepping back, then turning on his heel as he ran to the ladder and climbed up it. It sounded as if other TerraSave employees were here to help, but he knew that he couldn't just awkwardly sit there with Claire as she bawled over Steve's injured body. Besides, he was in too much shock to actually accept what he had just seen.

Steve Burnside was _alive._

Once Mason had left Claire began to rock Steve as she cradled him in her arms like a child. Tearfully she buried her face into his hair, attempting to muffle her loud sobs as she held her breath and went still for a moment. She tightly closed her eyes in an attempt to hold back tears but they still managed to escape. Claire had to accept the fact that she just couldn't prevent herself from crying. Here in her arms she held the boy she saw die in Atarctica. He was still breathing, but only just. His bullet wounds didn't seem too severe despite having hit him mainly in the torso area, so it was clear that Steve was no normal human anymore. Somethat had happened to him. Someone had done something to him.

Claire gently lay the boy down on the floor, taking out the small emergency aid kit once she regained herself ever so slightly. "Hold on," she choked out. "I'm gonna help you, Steve. Do you understand what I'm saying? I'm gonna help you and I'm gonna take you with me. I'm not leaving you behind this time."

She sprayed his wounds with some first aid spray, cleaning away the blood with an antibacterial wipe. Steve didn't seem to feel the slight stinging sensation as he simply lay there with his eyes closed, panting weakly in an attempt to catch his breath.

After the wounds had been cleaned Claire wrapped them with a soft cloth, but just as she finished bandaging him Steve weakly grabbed her wrist, catching her by surprise. Her blue eyes widened as she stared down at him, seeing as his own eyes slowly opened. He wasn't looking at her or anything in particular, his eyes simply being glazed with what may have been tears. All he did was stare upwards as he held her wrist, slowly sliding his hand so that he was then gripping hers. Immediately Claire tightened her grip as tears continued to stream down her cheeks. No words needed to be said; they both understood each other without them.

He held her hand as firmly as he could, slowly bringing it to his cheek. There was something so familiar about this feeling. He had felt it before...

Claire stared down at him, shakily caressing his cheek with her thumb as she attempted to smile through her restrained crying. His cheek was so cold. His body was freezing. It seemed as if he truly was simply a reanimated corpse, but his mind was still there - or at least some of it was. She knew that he remembered her.

Slowly Claire lowered her head, bringing her ear to his chest as she listened closely for the beat of his heart.

It was there.

He truly was alive again. Something about a heartbeat made him seem less like a regular zombie. She simply remained like that, her head on his chest as his chest raised and lowered with each breath he took.

When Claire eventually lifted her head she saw his eyes follow her. Finally he was looking directly at her, no longer being spaced out. His breathing had eased, now being slow and steady as opposed to quick and desperate. Claire could not contain a long and relieved sigh before she gently lifted the boy up in her arms.

"Come on, Steve," she said in a soft tone of voice. "Let's get you away from here."

No verbal response came from Steve, but he did seem extremely content as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to succumb to unconsciousness. Claire seemed to become worried but she knew it was best for Steve to rest for now. He would be alright. She knew it.

Claire was able to climb up the ladder and leave the building with Steve, seeing the sight of now-calm villagers as various TerraSave workers attended to them. Mason was among them, treating the arm of one of the wounded children. He saw Claire and waved at her, finishing his job and instructing the young girl to join the others who had been treated. The teenager jogged over to Claire, still looking shocked at the sight of Steve in her arms.

"We need to take him back to our facility," the woman declared. "I've temporarily treated his wounds but he needs full treatment. We also need to know just what's going on internally; a virus is obviously keeping him alive and it could be dangerous, so it's better to find out what it is now before something bad happens."

"So... So that's really Steve...?" Mason responded, slow with processing the information. Claire stared at him for a moment before smiling a little.

"Yes," she answered. "He's alive, Mason. Steve is alive. And we're going to keep him alive; I'm not losing him again."

Mason still seemed uncertain about something. It was weird; he still didn't believe that the person in Claire's arms was Steve Burnside. How could it be? He died. His corpse would've been rotten by now, not walking around.

"Come," Claire commanded, snapping Mason out of his slow thoughts. "The others will manage without us; it's vital that we take him back to TerraSave."

"...Right," Mason nodded slowly as he followed Claire back to the helicopter. Steve had to be secured to a stretcher before take-off, and for the whole flight Claire had her eyes locked onto him while Mason stared out of the window in an uncomfortable manner. While it was great to see Steve alive both Mason and Claire were aware that this could mean something terrible.

After all, they did just fall for a set-up Wesker planned out for them.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	8. Recovery

**~Recovery~**

Having arrived back at TerraSave's main facility, Claire had taken Steve to the medical ward for treatment. Other workers assisted Claire in treating Steve's bullet wounds and providing the boy with various antidotes, however no cure had any physical effect on him. At some point Steve's heartbeat became irregular and he seemed to be dying, leaving Claire to panic and hook him up to a life support machine; she had come to the conclusion that Steve could not have the virus treated because his life now depended on it.

One or two workers had questioned Claire's choice to save Steve's life, trying to convince her that it wasn't worth it because he was now incurable. They had tried to tell her that he was just another zombie, but she refused to listen to any of them. Before Claire could let her emotions control her actions Mason had stepped in and calmly told the workers that Steve would remain restrained and, should his brain-cells be killed by the virus, he would be killed.

With all of the tension finally dying down, Claire stood and stared through the ward window to watch Steve carefully just in case he woke up. Mason stood at her side with a cup of coffee, doing his best to look as if none of this actually bothered him at all.

"So," the male spoke up after taking a sip from his cup, "that's Steve, huh? That's really him in that room?"

Claire smiled ever so slightly and nodded her head. "Yes," she answered. "He's not a monster, I know he's not. He recognized me."

"So, like, you don't think he's going to try and kill us all?" Mason questioned. "Like, you think he'll be normal?"

For a moment Claire was silent while she stared at Steve but she was able to look at Mason and nod her head confidently. "I've fought mindless creatures enough times to know when someone is truly gone," she informed him. "Steve's still in there. He might be acting a little wild now, but I'm certain that he'll be back to normal very soon." A look of concern was suddenly on the woman's face as she glanced back through the glass to look at her unconscious friend. "I want to find out what happened to him. Something was done to him, no doubt by Wesker. I want to know exactly what happened."

Mason tilted his head slightly before taking yet another sip of his coffee, his non-identical eyes now gazing thoughtfully at Steve. He hoped that Claire was right; he wanted to see him as himself again. If the worst case scenario occurred and Steve had to be killed... Mason just didn't want to think about it.

The silence was starting to become awkward, so the brown-haired boy decided to speak up after letting out a mild chuckle.

"You know what Steve first ever said to me?" he asked quietly, clearly in a state of deep thought as he recalled a childhood memory. "He said, 'Your eyes look funny'. We were both kids at the time and I used to get picked on quite a lot because I was born with heterochromia, so naturally I got upset. Steve knelt down in front of me, and then... he said something I didn't expect him to say. Something smart. 'You shouldn't let comments like that upset ya so easily. Just do what I do and wear it like knight's armour, then it can't be used to hurt you.'"

Mason laughed quietly again and shook his head. "He always did have some weird thing about knights; apparently his father had taught him to think that way after a few incidents of him being teased due to his ginger hair. At first I was still mad at him, but we became friends. And because we were both strong, people stopped picking on us."

The teenager shrugged his shoulders. "I sometimes wonder what would've happened if he hadn't taught me that way of thinking. I probably would've been lonely during my childhood, and I would've been too afraid to make friends when I became a teenager. So... I guess I owe a lot to Steve, even if he was sometimes a little too energetic."

Claire listened thoughtfully to Mason's almost-random little story before turning her attention back to the unconscious Steve. He was still not moving so it would most likely be a while before he began to awaken.

"It sounds like he means a lot to you," she commented thoughtfully.

"Oh, you bet," Mason responded. "He was kinda like my brother. Neither of us had siblings, so... yeah."

Claire smiled slightly at the reply, but her smile was quick to fade. Her worry for Steve was still great; she may have been confident that he would return to normal, but she was still thinking about the possibility of him being permanently braindead.

 _..._

The axe was light in his two-handed grasp. He could lift it and swing it with ease, almost as if he was swinging a golf club.

His roar was mighty. A yell of rage. The echoing sound was a symbol of dominance. He was the powerful one. He was strong. Nobody would ever take him down. He was a beast.

There she was. The girl. Claire Redfield. His enemy.

He _really_ wanted to kill her.

With a swing of his axe he watched as Claire dived onto the ground. He had missed this time, but he wouldn't miss again. He brought his almighty green foot down onto the young woman, hearing her distressed cries as he raised his large weapon. He watched as her blue eyes filled with fear. Desperately she was trying to wriggle from underneath him, but it was futile. He had her now.

Slowly he lifted his axe, managing to use what little intelligence remained in his mind to aim at his prey. And then with a final swing...

 _..._

Steve wailed in horror as he sat himself up quickly, panting in a panicked way. He could not leap off the bed due to something being attached to him, which he soon noticed were various wires. He narrowed his eyes slightly, fearing the worst, but remembered what happened before he had fallen unconscious.

Claire. Claire had found him. She had saved him from himself; for the first time in months he felt like Steve Burnside again.

And now here he was, lying in a warm bed without fearing for his own life. He knew that when he heard the door open he would not need to flinch.

He was safe now.

Confident that he was no longer in a hostile environment, Steve tucked himself back under the duvet. He had no intention to go back to sleep, but the warmth of the bed was just heaven to him.

The boy lay there with his eyes staring up at the white ceiling, warmly lit by the sunlight coming through the window. His eyes glazed over as he allowed his mind to wander; finally, after all this time, he wasn't afraid to just stop and reflect. For once he was able to think about his situation. He could, at last, grieve for the life he had lost on that fateful night, although the grieving process was still internal.

His mother was dead. His father was dead. He, in one way or another, was dead. His whole family had tragically suffered at the hands of Umbrella due to his father's reckless actions. Tears were welling up in his eyes but he refused to give in to his emotions, for he had grown strong. Being in prison had toughened him up. Fighting for survival had toughened him up. Being infused with the Veronica virus had toughened him up.

Yet... he felt weak. He felt that he wasn't strong enough. If he truly was tough he wouldn't have let Wesker have his way with him. He would have clutched onto his life after Alexia delivered that fatal blow, keeping his eyes open until he was given the correct medical attention. But instead he had succumbed to his injuries and then became a mindless weapon shaped by Wesker.

It was all his fault. That's what he told himself. It was his fault that he killed his father. It was his fault that he and Claire were unable to escape before Alexia awakened and captured them. It was his fault that he transformed into a monster. It was his fault that he died of his wounds.

It was his fault that he didn't run when his father had told him to.

Out of pure guilt, Steve hid completely under the duvet covers. How could he show his face when everything, in his eyes, was his fault? How many people had he just attacked before being awakened from his feral state? How much human flesh had he devoured?

That's when he heard the door open, instantly causing him to hold his breath and freeze in pure fear. He knew that he had no reason to react like this anymore, aware that he was far away from Wesker and the other scientific researchers, but no matter who it was he was just ashamed to show his face. He was just a monster, and that's all he would be in the eyes of the public.

Slowly approaching the bed, Claire's eyes were wide with both concern and caution. She had no idea what to expect; for all she knew, Steve was ready to hop out from beneath the sheets so that he could maul her to death, feasting upon her and ripping her apart like a starving wild animal. Hesitantly she reached for the covers and pulled lightly, not wanting to whip the duvet away in fear of startling the potentially-dangerous boy.

"Steve...?" she spoke. There was no movement. Claire took a few steps back while her deceased ally remained still, her caution being extremely high.

But, to her ultimate relief, Steve slowly removed the covers and lifted his head slightly from under them, being careful to not let any of the medical wires slip out of him. His monstrous eyes were locked onto Claire, but his expression was not savage. He was confused. He was thoughtful. He was normal.

No, not just normal. He was Steve.

This creature, which had very recently attacked Claire, was Steve Burnside.

She couldn't hold back no matter how hard she tried. Her lips trembled as she smiled but fought back tears, gasping quietly every few seconds as she desperately tried to maintain her strong appearance. Knowing that her spasming mouth was giving her emotions away, Claire clasped both her hands over her lips. In another futile attempt to contain her crying Claire tightened her eyelids together, trying to keep her tears within her body but ultimately failing.

Steve slowly sat himself up, his eyes expressing deep guilt. What had he done? Had he made her cry? Had he done something to upset her? It was clear that she was doing her best to prevent herself from bursting out into tears, so surely she was upset about something.

The redhead allowed his gaze to fall to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed, his body language expressing his vulnerability and sorrow. He never wanted to upset Claire. He never wanted to see Claire cry. Yet here she was before him, fighting away her womanly weeps.

But suddenly, to his surprise, she ran to him. She threw her arms around him and burst out crying onto his shoulder, falling almost limp against him. Steve's immediate reaction was to catch her, holding her fragile body in his arms. He flinched, at first wary that she'd try to hurt him, but he was able to process the scenario and confirm that Claire wasn't upset because of him.

She was relieved to see him.

His undead eyes softened as he carefully lifted one of his arms, using the other to hold the girl close. His raised arm found her cheek and gently caressed it, brushing away at her soft hair as she pulled her head away to finally gaze up at him. Despite his drained skin tone and unnatural eye colour, Steve looked no different to his virus-free counterpart. He was still himself, and that was for certain.

The young Redfield leaned her cheek into Steve's touch, his cold hands feeling warmer than before. Her crying had calmed down but tears still rolled down her profile. For a moment she closed her eyes, embracing the moment as it was, before re-opening them and staring into her former-partner's near-glowing optics.

And, at long last, Steve's cheeks pulled themselves up in order to let their host smile softly at the tearful female.

"Even without me taking care of you..." he began quietly, "you're still beautiful..."

His attempt at an arrogant joke would have otherwise made Claire roll her eyes, but instead all she could do was let out a whispered chuckle as she held his hand against her cheek.

"It's you," she had said to him. "It's really you, Steve. You're actually here. I'm holding your hand."

Steve used his thumb to stroke her cheek softly, a loving smile still on his face. He was just mesmerized by her beauty and composure; he was glad to just be with her like this again.

"I know," was all he muttered in response, his mind in a dream-like state as he gazed up at this angel who had saved him from his recent hell.

"Can you feel it?" Claire asked, her grip on his hand tightening slightly as she pressed it against her face a little more. "Can you feel me holding your hand, Steve?"

"Of course I can," Steve replied as he stared into Claire's blue orbs. "I can feel the smoothness of your hand, the warmth of your skin... I can feel just as I could before."

Claire managed to resist the urge to cry again as she beamed up at him with joy. He was more alive than she had anticipated; it was as if he had never died in the first place.

"You gonna make me wait outside the room forever, eh?" Mason's voice could be heard asking the question as he stepped casually into the room, his arms folded tightly. Steve's eyes were averted so that he now looked at his old friend. A childhood friend. A friend whom he had not seen since he disappeared to Rockfort Island. Instantly Steve knew that he was trying to keep his cool, as evident by just how tightly his arms were folded. A little smile curved its way onto Mason's face, with Steve smiling back at him in a way which slightly showed his teeth.

"Your eyes look stupid even from this far away," the redhead playfully commented in response to Mason's entrance.

Mason let out a sarcastic huff. "Have you seen yours, you hoser?" he retorted, shifting a little where he stood. Steve simply smiled at Mason's reaction, and in response Mason couldn't help but smile back in a cool manner.

But, like Claire, he could not keep his cool for long. The brown-haired boy let out a shaky sigh as he bit his lip. "Darn it, Steve," he breathed out as he marched over to his former classmate, wrapping his arms around him just as Claire had down. His face rested into Steve's ginger hair, tears in his eyes but no cries of relief being heard - aside from the odd sniff, of course.

Steve removed his hand from Claire's cheek and used it to pat Mason's back. "I missed you too, buddy," he assured him. He let both Claire and Mason sniffle for a few minutes before Mason finally pulled away, rubbing his eyes on his hand.

"They said you were dead, Steve," the teen croaked out. "They said nothing about you and your pops going to jail."

Upon hearing the situation mentioned, Steve's expression became solemn as he hung his head. "Sorry," he murmured. "I would've sent letters, but the kinda prison I was at was... isolated from the rest of the world."

Claire stood herself up and smiled, her hand now resting on Steve's shoulder as she glanced between both him and Mason. "Let's not talk about that for now," she said before her light-coloured eyes finally settled on Steve. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Tch, you don't wanna know where I've been," Steve reacted, sounding slightly defensive as he awkwardly eliminated the eye-contact he had with the brunette. But now wasn't the time to bring down the mood, so he made himself smile at the duo before him. "I'd rather just hear about what I've missed - it sure seems like a lot."

"Of course!" Claire smiled. "We'll tell you everything; I bet you're mostly confused about Mason being here, though, right?"

Steve looked around the room before looking at her once again. "I think I've got a lot of questions to be asking," he replied.

"So have we," Mason added. "But we can understand if you don't wanna talk much about yourself right now; I bet I'd be the same."

"Mason, you'd be a _trembling_ mess if you'd been through what I've been through," Steve assured, a little smile still on his face to show his light-heartedness.

"You don't know that," Mason retorted in a similar way before raising his eyebrow. "And... was that a joke about my surname?"

Steve simply chuckled, glad to finally have masculine banter once again. He was going to enjoy catching up with his old friend. As for Claire, he really wanted to know a lot. Was she working at the place they were currently in? How was she able to get away from Alexia Ashford?

It really was true; the three had a lot to talk about.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	9. Alienated

**~Alienated~**

After taking time to wake himself up, Steve eventually clambered out of bed and left his isolated medical ward. Claire and Mason had already left a few minutes prior so that Steve had enough time to privately sort himself out, although he hadn't yet been given a change of clothes so he simply left the room wearing his patient gown.

His room had been kept relatively dim in terms of lighting, so opening the door made him instinctively recoil and guard his eyes; his eyes were not used to this level of brightness, so it took him a few seconds to adjust. Once he had adjusted he began to walk almost uncomfortably as though he was insecure and aware of the many people passing him by. Workers. The sight of such employees made him defensive, for they vaguely resembled the men and women who had previous pinned him down and forced him to undergo painful experiments, but he was able to remind himself that these people were not as merciless; their intentions were different.

But Steve only became more insecure when people started to give him weird looks as they walked by. Some people pretended not to think much of his presence before turning their head and gazing back at them after walking far away. Steve became painfully aware of these judgemental stares, soon focusing on nothing but the attention others were giving him until he was snapped out of his thoughts when a hand fell onto his shoulder.

"Steve?" It was Claire's voice, much to the teen's relief. The redhead turned around to face his female companion, his focus now on her instead of the other TerraSave employees.

Claire smiled kindly at him, her head tilting ever so slightly to one side. "How are you feeling? Do you feel better now that you're up?"

Steve scratched the back of his head, smiling awkwardly. "Yeah," he answered, although he didn't sound certain. "I feel... as good as I could, I guess."

"That's good," Claire assured him. "How exactly _are_ you feeling? Any emotions? Numbness? Pain? Anything worth noting?"

For a moment Steve thought about it, glancing around as he focused on different parts of himself before his golden eyes met with Claire's. "Nothing too weird," he answered. "I'm finally starting to feel a little bit warmer, but other than that... everything seems normal for me."

"Are you sure?" Claire questioned, her response causing Steve to tense up a little.

"I'm sure," he told her, folding his arms in an uncomfortable manner. "Why are you asking me like that? I wouldn't lie to you, Claire..."

"I just want to make sure," Claire sighed sadly. "There's more than one dose of the t-Veronica virus coursing through your body as we speak. One dose was able to mutate you, so it's strange that your body is coping with a higher level of infection."

Steve shrugged his shoulders, still appearing defensive and tense. "I heard the um... the scientists talking about this back when I was being experimented on," he recalled. "It had something to do with my body being shut down; because of my... y'know... my body no longer physically responds to any kind of virus."

The news was somewhat relieving, but Steve had failed to mention the mental effects. "And... what about mentally...?" Claire chose to question. She saw Steve direct his eyes to somewhere else, his arms still folded and his fists now clenching.

"I can control it," he murmured. Claire's head tilted again as she curiously took a step closer to the boy.

"Control... what?" she queried. The unnatural eyes of her companion trailed to look back at her once more, but not for too long.

"They said that the virus... should kill my brain-cells," he explained. "They said that I should be nothing but a mindless zombie, but my constant determination to... to get away... was enough to keep my alive."

Something about that sounded unstable and unsafe, so Claire mustered the confidence to keep asking questions. The more she knew about Steve the better.

"So what would happen if you suddenly gave up on living?"

The ginger-haired boy just shook his head. "I'm fine," he assured her. "That wouldn't happen. Besides, even if I did give up I'd still be in control of myself; it doesn't take my body long to adjust to the Veronica virus anymore."

"Steve, you were savage when Mason and I found you," Claire revealed, feeling a stinging sensation in her heart as she described her friend in such an awful manner. "You were feasting on human flesh. You had _killed_ people. Innocent people. You attacked me with no weapons and you growled as if you were... some sort of animal. I want to believe you when you say that you can control yourself, but something happened in that village. You were not yourself. Is there nothing you can tell me about any of that? Do you have any idea _why_ you behaved that way? Because if you don't... if you don't..."

He'd have to be quarantined. He'd have to be taken into custody. He'd have to be killed. He was already painfully aware of what could happen to him.

The young male could feel himself shaking. His revived heart was rattling within his skeleton as if it was also fearing for its life. But Steve, as quietly as he could, exhaled in order to calm himself down. His arms slowly unfolded and dropped to his sides, his body visibly losing its tension.

"...Conditioning," he muttered. He could already feel Claire's confused gaze on him, so swallowed hard as he prepared to continue speaking in a shaky tone of voice. "...If you were constantly told that you were a monster... If you were locked up in a room where anyone who ever entered stared at you with such disgust and caution as if they were dealing with a rabid animal... If you were left starving in a laboratory with nothing but the corpse of a zombie you had no choice but to kill if you wanted to live... If you were trained to think that the smell of flesh meant food when you were curled up on the floor by yourself... then of course I'm not going to be myself anymore."

Claire could see him shaking. She could see that he was both uncomfortable and nervous. Now was definitely a good time to stop asking questions. The young woman placed her hand on Steve's shoulder, feeling as he immediately tensed up again. A saddened expression dominated her visage. The TerraSave worker pulled the younger individual closer, wrapping both of her arms around him as she hugged him from behind. Her face was buried into his back, tears almost in her eyes as she felt Steve slowly reach for and grasp her hands.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," she muffled. "I don't want to see you suffer again. I want to be able to help you. I want you... to live again."

Live again. While he had been very much alive for about three months, he hadn't exactly been living. Being stuck in a room and treated like a hunting dog wasn't exactly an ideal human lifestyle.

Would he ever be able to truly live again? It was physically evident that he was infected with some kind of virus, and the virus itself was contagious; while it did not affect him it could still affect others. Would he even be allowed to go back into society or would he be cooped up forever?

The young male stroked the woman's hand absentmindedly. "Live again," he echoed. "It's almost funny to hear you say something like that. How can a zombie go back to living among the rest of humanity?"

"You're not a zombie!" Claire disagreed. "You're not like them... You can think, you can talk, you can... I dunno, you can just be you!"

Steve shook his head, not believing Claire's words. "I'm just a monster," he mumbled. "I don't belong in your society. Not anymore."

"Stop it!" Claire begged, turning Steve around and firmly holding him by the shoulders as she met his perculiar eyes. "You're not a monster, Steve! You can walk out of this place we can provide you with a home! Y-You can get yourself a job somewhere!"

"That won't happen," Steve declared coldly. "Officially I am dead. I carry an incurable virus which could spread and infect others. People will be after me. How am I supposed to step back into the world when I am a walking threat to everyone?"

"Because we're going to help you," Claire assured. "We're going to help you, Steve!"

Steve pulled himself away from Claire, turning away and grabbing his head firmly, tugging at his own red hair. While he had assured Claire that he was in control of himself he deep down was uncertain. Maybe walking around in a big city, surrounded by thousands of people, would trigger his conditioned mind. The many bodies would probably produce a strong smell.

No... it wasn't regular flesh that affected him. It was rotting flesh, and then he would proceed to go after any kind of mammal once his mind had switched to its conditioned settings. The people in the city weren't dead...

But what about graveyards and funerals? If Steve chose to take a walk and cut through a graveyard, would the smell of a newly-buried corpse set him off?

It was likely that Claire and the other workers here could help him and teach him to take the necessary precautions, but the very thought sickened him. He hated relying on people. He would feel better figuring all of this out on his own, so he didn't tell Claire about his worries. He didn't want her to know. He didn't want her to help him.

"We can work this out..." Claire continued to speak upon seeing Steve's distress. "Trust me. My job is to help people when they are affected by bioterrorism, and that includes helping people who are victims of virus outbreaks!"

"I bet you've never helped a dead guy before, though, have you?!" Steve snapped suddenly, turning to stare at her with a fierce gaze. She gasped and stepped back, startled at the boy's sudden reaction to her words. She could hear him hissing in anger as he breathed through clenched teeth. "This sorta thing has never happened before, oh no! This is all new to you, isn't it?! You have no idea what you're doing! Admit it!"

Claire was starting to sound hesitant when she spoke. "If you just let us try-"

"What, you think I'm gonna let _your_ men perform tests on me, too?!" Steve cut in. "Am I just a lab rat for you to experiment on, Claire?!"

"No!" Claire cried in response.

"Then what am I?!" Steve roared. "What am I to you, Claire?! If I fail to prove myself as a worthy civilian I'll be put down like some sorta dog! I'm not human to you, so what am I?! WHAT AM I, CLAIRE?!"

There was a silence. Steve stared at her viciously as he awaited her answer, his eyebrows furrowing in a way which made him almost seemed worried or afraid of what she would say.

As for Claire, her eyes were wandering along the floor as she frequently blinked to contain her tears, both of her hands playing with their own fingers nervously. The brunette gulped, her icy blue eyes not on Steve as she let her mouth open slightly for a moment. Then, at last, she answered him.

"...You're not a lab rat," she began quietly as she hesitantly stepped towards her former companion. He tensed up and even took one or two steps back out of instinct before she continued to speak. "You're not a monster. You're not a dog. You're nothing like that."

Her eyes lifted slowly so that she was looking at the young male, his expression hosting a little less aggression. "I know it's hard for you to trust me," she continued. "I know you can't bear the thought of being tested on again. I know you're afraid of the results in case something bad happens to you, but listen to me when I tell you this..."

She reached forward and clasped his hand, feeling as he tried to pull away at first until she pulled him close. She clasped his other hand and squeezed them both tightly in her own, allowing herself to continue speaking as she locked eyes with him.

"We will not hurt you like how those other scientists hurt you. We will not treat you like a wild animal. You are our patient. You are our guest. We are going to treat you well and we are going to help you. But if, for whatever reason, you are deemed too dangerous to return to human society... then I will personally take care of you in my own home. And should somebody try to eliminate you or capture you... I will die for you. That's a promise I intend to keep."

He was shaking again. He didn't like hearing any of this. Imagining Claire dying for him was awful... He could not allow it.

The boy shook his head very slowly. "Don't..." he croaked hoarsely. "Don't die for me..."

But Claire simply responded by smiling warmly up at him. "I won't need to," she assured him, placing one of her hands on his cheek. "Because you are going to be just fine. Okay? You're not going to suffer anymore at anyone's hands. Mason and I will both be here to take care of you. The other employees will help take care of you. It may be our first time treating someone in your kind of situation, but we can do it. You just have to trust us."

Trust. Trusting people was hard for him. He trusted his father, the man who was in charge of his family, and look where that got him. Imprisoned. Killed. If he couldn't trust his own father then why would he put his trust into some strangers wearing white coats? How could he let anyone near him again after everything Wesker had put him through?

"Come on," Claire said to him, letting go of his hands. "You must still be quite confused and in shock. Let's talk over a cup of coffee in the cafeteria with Mason, okay? I'll tell you what's going on here in this place. If anything bothers you, let me know. I'll do my best to work around any of your concerns."

Slowly Steve nodded, still internally calming himself down from his episode. He once again noticed people giving him odd looks as they passed by, and his tempter tantrum hadn't done him any favours. Claire nudged his arm to once again get his attention, a small smile on her face. "This way," she commanded softly, wandering towards an open corridor. Steve was quick to follow her, still uncomfortable with all of the strange glances people gave him. He pretended not to notice them, but it was difficult.

"So," he muttered, awkwardly attempting to start a normal conversation after his previous outburst, "you work here, huh? What kinda work do you do? You personally, I mean?"

"Me?" Claire responded while walking briskly. "I don't do much myself. I only started working here a few months ago, but I'm respected because of my... experiences."

"You're talking about Rockfort Island, aren't you?" Steve assumed. "And Antarctica?"

"Not just those outbreaks," Claire corrected. "I was also there during the Raccoon City outbreak."

"Raccoon City?" Steve reacted curiously, now seeming more interested in the conversation. "My dad was on about moving to that place. It's where quite a few Umbrella workers lived."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't move there," Claire assured. "The whole city was infected and eventually destroyed."

"Huh," Steve responded. "I never knew that..."

"This all happened not long before I was taken to Rockfort Prison," Claire told him. "You were probably there already."

"Yeah..." Steve sighed quietly, looking down at his feet as he walked. "Probably..."

The pair reached the cafeteria, but before entering Claire turned and let out a sigh as she faced Steve. "I work here because of you, Steve," she admitted, her voice soft to keep the conversation strictly between them. "Losing you... It was hard for me. I couldn't move on. I wanted to work with motorcycles or something, but... I felt too guilty to abandon everything you and I went through together. So my brother got me a place here at TerraSave. I wanted to put a stop to all acts of bioterrorism, and I wanted to help anyone who had been affected. ...I even named one of my major projects after you."

Steve seemed surprised. "You did?" he asked her.

"Project Burnside," Claire replied. "I spent a long time trying to launch it and I still believe that some people find it bizarre."

"Well, what is it?" Steve questioned.

"It's a project dedicated to helping people who are mutated by the different viruses," Claire explained. "Those B. are still human."

"They _were_ human," Steve corrected, his tone venomous.

"I'm trying to put research into different antidotes for the viruses," Claire told him. "I want to be able to make those B. human again by curing them and surgically operating on them. I believe that it's possible to do that; you were able to return to your human state without any antidote at all."

"Can we not talk about that?" Steve requested, wincing slightly at the memory as one of his hands subconsciously touched his abdomen. Claire noticed his action and nodded her head.

"...Right," she responded. "Sorry. Let's just grab a coffee." With that said, Claire pushed open the door and entered the cafeteria. Different voices could be heard from the different tables, but the sound volume in the room seemed to go down as people spotted Steve.

"I can tell they don't like me," Steve whispered to Claire. "Is it that obvious I'm a freak?"

"Don't say it like that!" Claire whispered back, nudging the boy with her elbow.

"Steve!" Mason called, waving his hand as he briefly stood up to get the duo's attention. He was sat at a small table with three empty coffee cups, a half-empty one in his hand. The room became even quieter for a moment, causing the boy to frown. "What?" he asked everyone who was looking at him. "You call yourselves TerraSave employees. Haven't you all seen zombies by now?"

Steve let out an exhale of irritation as he and Claire walked over to his table. "Do you have to be so blunt about that, Mason?" he asked through grit teeth. Mason simply chuckled.

"Wear your weakness like knight's armour," he echoed Steve's past words before taking a sip from his fourth cup of coffee. Steve rolled his eyes and took a seat.

"I'll get us both some coffee," Claire stated, her hand on Steve's shoulder. She smiled at both him and Mason and then proceeded to walk over to the counter.

"Can you even drink coffee anymore?" Mason interrogated curiously. Steve seemed stumped for a moment, stuttering a little.

"Of course I can," he managed to say. "What kinda stupid question is that?"

Mason shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, you're technically dead," he pointed out. "Are you insides not, like, rotting away?"

"No," Steve answered, not sounding at all amused. "The virus kept my body intact. So did the people who were using my body for virus samples."

"Cool," Mason reacted, taking another sip from his cup. Steve frowned at him, his expression easily spotted by his friend who simply chuckled in response.

"Someone's getting grumpy," he mocked playfully.

"Shut up," Steve huffed. Mason leaned over and grabbed his cheek, pinching it cheekily until Steve bat his hand away. "Get off!"

Mason simply laughed again. "Darn, you've changed quite a bit, haven't you?" he said to him. "You were always such a keener. Now you're... well, you're different."

"Yeah, well back in school I wasn't exactly being pumped full of t-Veronica shots," Steve retorted irritably. "And I wasn't forced to eat the rotting flesh of zombies."

The two workers sitting on a nearby table gave Steve a very judgmental stare, which Mason picked up on.

"Hey, mind your own business, will ya?" he said to the two employees. "Eavesdropping is rude. Have your own conversation if ours is off-putting!"

Steve glanced back at the workers before looking back at Mason, watching as he shook his head and sipped his coffee.

"They really don't like me here," he muttered. "I bet they just wanna get rid of me, don't they?"

"Nah!" Mason assured. "It's not that they don't like ya, Stevie! They're just curious, that's all. Once you get to know everyone I'm sure the tension will drop a little."

As Steve sat there, thoughtfully taking in Mason's words, Claire returned with two cups of coffee and placed them on the table.

"Hey, where's mine?" Mason asked, deliberately being cheeky.

"You've had more than enough," Claire told him as she took her seat beside Steve. She watched as Steve took the cup by the handle and lifted it, blowing on the hot drink to cool it down.

"So," Mason began, "when're we gonna take Steve out to get some new clothes? He looks like a dainty little princess in that gown."

Steve's glare was almost murderous, but luckily Claire spoke up before he could threaten his childhood friend. "I'll take him to the nearest mall and let him loose," she chuckled, looking at Steve. "Nothing too expensive, though, okay?"

The redhead smiled a little bit and let out a chuckle, then taking a long sip from his coffee.

"We'll go in a few days, after you've taken your tests," Claire continued, seeing the boy grimace at the thought as he put down his cup and gulped down his coffee.

"What kind of tests?" he asked almost hesitantly.

"Nothing too scary, I promise," Claire assured him with a smile. "I would never do anything to hurt you, Steve. We're just gonna see what you can do and what's going on inside your body."

"Is that it?" Steve queried, sounding somewhat relieved. That didn't sound too bad.

"That's it," Claire told him. "Didn't I tell you? We're not like those other scientists who had you. We want to help you, not turn you into a weapon."

"Who were those other scientists, anyway?" Mason asked him out of interest.

"...I don't know," Steve murmured, looking down. "I never found out the company's name or anything..."

"...Wesker was one of them, wasn't he?" Claire asked, seeing Steve once again grimace and become tense.

"How did you know?" he asked her.

"Mason and I found one of their abandoned facilities and found some security footage," Claire explained. "I recognized Wesker. He was working on something. A person. ...It was you."

"...So you knew about him," Steve reacted slowly and quietly. "You knew he... had me..."

"I had to put the pieces together," Claire corrected. "I knew he took your body away just after you died, but I thought that he may have handed you over to somebody else at some point."

"...Well, he had me," Steve confirmed. "He had me alright."

"He's a cruel man," Claire stated. "I... I won't make you tell me about the experiments he put you through. I know already that they can't have been easy for you to withstand."

"No," Steve forced himself to say. "I won't fear him anymore. I... I'll tell you _exactly_ what he did to me. He didn't just condition me to go savage; he tested on me to see if I would mutate again. He wanted to see just how different I was to a normal human, too. One night he left me in a bath of ice. I would've died if I hadn't been enhanced by my virus. Then, the next day, just after he dragged me outta there, he put me in a sealed chamber and raised the temperatures until I was almost boiling from within. He discovered that heat strengthened the virus and affected my mind, so he would continue to do that to me during the conditioning phases.

"He injected me with more shots of the Veronica virus, but nothing happened. He placed me in a chamber and took away the oxygen. I survived longer than most people but I eventually fell unconscious. He tested me with poisonous gases but none of them harmed me."

Steve shook his head. "I can barely remember what else he did," he admitted. "I already told you about how he made me eat zombies and fight for my own survival. ...Though if I ever tried to fight him I'd end up lying on the floor surrounded by patches of my own blood."

Claire reached for Steve's hand, tears in her eyes. "I..." she wavered. "I wish I had known sooner... I would've come to rescue you..."

"Same here," Mason chimed in. "I don't like it when people mess with my pals."

Steve looked at Mason, then at Claire. "Guys..." he responded shakily before hugging Claire tightly without warning. Claire was shocked, but Mason reacted quickly. He stood up and walked over to them, joining the hug.

"We're here for you, Steve," the brown-haired boy assured. "You're not gonna get hurt anymore. We promise."

"Right," Claire agreed as she wrapped her arms around her beloved friend. "We're gonna make sure you recover from all that you've been through. We're gonna help you. We're gonna give you a life worth living."

Steve wasn't doing much to hold back anymore. He started crying quietly, his face pressed into Claire's shoulder. That was such a relief to hear. Even if he still doubted them he couldn't help but be grateful for their support. He'd take those tests to show them his gratitude.

And maybe, once he was deemed well enough to leave the facility for good, he would find and kill Wesker.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	10. Scarred

**~Scarred~**

"Steve, please!" Claire cried out in horror as Steve held her up against the wall with his axe. She was trying everything she could to claw herself out of his hold.

"Kill her, you beast, kill her!" yelled the feminine voice of his superior, wherever she was.

Of course he was going to listen to her.

Baring his teeth, Steve let out a growl before unleashing a threatening roar, lunging his head forward as he prepared to bite into Claire's neck.

 _..._

Steve gasped as he sat himself up, breathing heavily in fear with his eyes wide. He looked around frantically, panicking, but began to calm himself down. This was his room. The same room he was in yesterday.

Had he mutated at all overnight? He quickly looked at his hands, relieved to see that he was still as human as he could be. He felt his face, feeling no changes.

It was just a dream.

 _..._

"I'm going to be with him for all of his tests," Claire told Mason as she walked with a clipboard in her hand. "I can tell he's not looking forward to them; I know he likes to act tough but it's clear that Wesker tormented him far too much."

"Steve's always been terrible when it comes to admitting weakness," Mason added. "He prefers to act strong."

"He needs to stop doing that," Claire responded. "If something's wrong he needs to tell us. He can't heal himself alone."

"He probably thinks that he'll worry us if he admits anything on his mind," Mason told her.

"I'm already worried," Claire admitted. "I'm worried that there could be something wrong with him and we'd never know until something bad happened."

"He's could also be afraid of being isolated or killed," Mason theorized.

"I already told him that I'd never let anything happen to him," Claire said.

"It takes more than that to convince Steve to open up," Mason replied.

"I'll do whatever it takes, then," Claire planned. "I'm tired of seeing him suffer."

The brunette pushed Steve's door open once arriving, seeing him looking at his own reflection in his mirror. He turned his head sharply to look at her.

"Good morning," Claire greeted with a smile. "Sleep well?"

"...Yeah," Steve answered, smiling back awkwardly. Claire didn't seem too convinced, but knew that a morning interrogation wouldn't make Steve feel any better.

The redhead stood himself up. "So, do my tests start today?" he asked.

"Yes, they do," Claire answered. "But don't worry, I'll be with you for each one. You've got nothing to be afraid of."

Steve left the comfort of his dimly lit room and joined the other two as they headed for their next destination.

"Well, I'll see you guys later," Mason said to Steve and Claire suddenly. "I've gotta make a call to my parents."

And with that he split away from the two and made his leave. Steve watched him almost with worry, but then returned to focusing on himself when seeing that he was entering the laboratory area of the building. Already he was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Here," Claire announced, stopping by a heavy white door. Steve stared at it almost nervously, doing his best to appear casual. Unfortunately for him he failed in appearing calm, for Claire saw the worried look in his eyes. She reached for his hand and took hold of it.

"Hey," she cooed. "There's honestly nothing to be afraid of. I'm right here with you."

Steve's eyes met hers for a moment before he once again focused on the door thoughtfully. He stared for a while longer until he nodded his head. "Right," he responded to her words, opening the heavy door with ease.

It just looked like a doctor's clinic once he was inside. A man, much older than he and Claire, was busy working at his desk, but immediately stood and took off his glasses when the pair entered.

"Miss Redfield," he greeted, stepping forwards to greet the duo.

"Doctor Reynolds," Claire responded, nodding her head with a smile before looking back at Steve, who was standing behind her in a defensive stance. "This is Steve."

"Ah," Reynolds nodded. "The dead boy."

"Can we _please_ stop describing me that way?" Steve requested, sounding irritable.

"My apologies," Reynolds apologized. "I have never encountered someone like you before. I don't suppose anyone has, actually."

"Well, don't I feel special?" Steve muttered sarcastically. Claire grimaced at his response, almost embarrassed at his attitude as she laughed awkwardly.

"He's a little... tense," she told Reynolds.

"I see," Reynolds noted. "He indeed does seem troubled." The comment made Steve glare at him and fold his arms, his cold stare almost enough to send shivers down Reynolds' spine. Nonetheless, Reynolds spoke again in a calm and professional tone of voice. "Well, I can assure you that you're in good hands, Steve. If anything I do hurts or bothers you then tell me to stop."

"Hmph," Steve grunted, his arms folding firmly. Claire let out a quiet sigh.

"I take that you will be joining us, Miss Redfield?" Reynolds assumed.

"Yes," Claire nodded. "It's... It's for the best. Mason is covering any duties I'm missing."

"Good," Reynolds responded, returning to his desk. "Then come over here and take a seat. Both of you."

Claire walked over without hesitating, but Steve was still for a moment. He carefully and cautiously made his way over and sat down beside Claire, shifting his seat closer to hers.

"Now," Reynolds began as he checked his computer, "let's get your files up."

"What files?" Steve questioned, tensing up immediately.

"I uploaded your files to the TerraSave system after you were brought back here," Claire quietly explained to him. "It's just general information about you and some of your past medical records I recovered. You might need to fill in some of the blanks."

"No previous health concerns, healthy genetics..." Reynolds commented. "Not even a broken bone. You took good care of yourself, it seems."

"How is this relevant?" Steve cut in, wanting to get through this appointment as quickly as possible. Claire gave him an odd look, once again startled by his bluntness.

Reynolds raised his eyebrow as he looked at Steve. "Your healthy lifestyle is also a contributing factor to how your body deals with the t-Veronica virus," he explained. Steve leaned forwards slightly, his golden eyes meeting the brown ones belonging to the doctor.

"My body can handle the virus because I was dead," he corrected. "I was kept in a cold room. My body was lifeless. Viruses can't spread and cause mutation if the host is dead."

"That's true," Reynolds nodded, "but you're not dead anymore. The virus reactivated your body's systems."

"It should've killed my brain-cells and turned me into a mindless zombie," Steve added, his eyes narrowed. "Willpower is enough to overcome it."

"Ah, but that still depends on your health," Reynolds assured. "Somebody suffering from cystic fibrosis or polio, for example, could not combat the virus merely by being determined. Somebody with a form of cancer would physically begin to mutate regardless of their willpower. Because your body was already strong and healthy you were able to control the virus; that's why as we speak you remain as an intelligent human being."

"So I'm okay," Steve concluded, silently hoping that maybe he didn't need to stay here for much longer.

"Not quite," Reynolds answered. "Miss Redfield and Mister Tremblay both reported seeing you act "savage" when you attacked that village. You clearly were not in control of the virus, were you?"

Steve leaned back in his chair, still not seeming too pleased. He glanced at Claire before letting out a sigh, staring down at his knees. "I was... made to act that way," he admitted. "It was the result of being conditioned for three months..."

"Three months?" Reynolds questioned. "That's how long it took you to go from what you are now to a mindless killer?" Steve nodded his head, appearing ashamed. He looked up when catching Reynolds writing something down in his notepad.

"Are you certain that the hot climate didn't change you at all?" Reynolds interrogated.

"Maybe," Steve answered quietly. "While I was... While I belonged to a different organization I was tested with coping in hot temperatures. I didn't go completely um... "savage" but... I did kinda go crazy."

"So the heat was most likely a contributing factor," Reynolds concluded, noting it down. "That's something we should be cautious of." Steve lifted his head and stared at the doctor.

"What, you think I'm gonna go nuts again if someone forgets to turn off the AC?" he retorted, sounding irritable again.

"For now it is a concern," Reynolds replied, "but I believe that you can conquer those effects to a certain degree. Of course, the behaviour is also a result of the virus trying to develop rapidly in your body so you shouldn't be expected to deal with the problem alone."

"What am I supposed to do, then?" Steve queried.

"I'm going to develop an antidote which should weaken the virus cells," Reynolds explained. "To do that I'm going to need some of your blood so that I can extract a small sample of the virus."

Now Steve looked really tense, but he said nothing. He was going to go through with this for Claire. Refusing would only make him seem like a coward.

"We'll get onto doing that later," Reynolds continued, the words almost relieving Steve. "For now I am going to just get you to do a few exercises for me. I should have the results ready by tomorrow."

"So we'll just be going over the results tomorrow, right?" Steve asked, hoping that the answer would be yes.

"No," Reynolds responded. "But don't worry, you won't be doing anything too serious. I'll just need to speak with you in private."

In private? The very words made Steve widen his eyes as he quickly turned his head to look at Claire. Had she lied to him about always being by his side for these things?

Claire tilted her head slightly. "In private?" she asked the doctor.

"Yes, Miss Redfield," Reynolds replied to her. "I will need to speak with him in private."

"Just... speaking, right?" Steve questioned slowly. Reynolds smiled.

"Just speaking," he assured. "It must be a conversation strictly between you and I. You may tell Miss Redfield about what we discuss tomorrow after the meeting is over, but the meeting itself has to be a one-on-one talk."

Claire looked at Steve, almost worried about what he was currently thinking. She could see that he was silently processing what Reynolds had just said, but slowly his head nodded.

"...I understand," he agreed.

"Good," Reynolds smiled. "Now then, please follow me."

Reynolds stood up from his desk and walked across the room, with Steve reluctantly following behind.

"Sit down here, please," the doctor commanded, gesturing to a typical doctor's bed. Steve hopped up onto it and sat there, his eyes on Claire until Reynolds spoke up again. "Remove your gown."

"The whole thing?" Steve asked, sounding somewhat surprised. "I-I'll practically be nude!"

"You are wearing boxer shorts under the gown, yes?" Reynolds queried. Steve looked awkward.

"Well.. yeah, but..."

"Then you'll be fine," Reynolds clarified. "Just remove the gown. I just need to analyse the current physical state of your body."

Steve let out a sigh and slipped off the hospital gown, cheeks almost flushing with colour for the first time since his revival. He expected to hear Claire giggle at him, but she didn't utter a sound. The boy looked to see what she was doing, seeing that she was looking away from him. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing...

"Hmm..." Reynolds hummed as he inspected Steve. "Nothing too out of the ordinary. You have spider veins here on your neck and face, obviously due to the virus flowing in your blood stream." Steve felt his neck absentmindedly as Reynolds spoke, but suddenly tensed up when Reynolds examined his abdomen.

"This area is paler than the rest of your skin," the doctor noted. "And it's large. It almost appears to be raised slightly..." The moment he touched it Steve grabbed his wrist, not even looking down at all. Reynolds seemed surprised by the gesture and lifted his head to look up at the teen, seeing a disturbed look in his expression. For a brief moment he was confused, but he quickly understood the situation and pulled his hand away.

"A scar," he said. "It takes up a large portion of your abdomen." He turned his head to look back at Claire, who was still sat by his desk. "Miss Redfield," he called. "Do come over here."

Claire lifted her head and stood herself up, walking over. She could see Steve turning his head away from her, a look of shame on his face.

"This scar," Reynolds pointed. "What was it from? It is vital for me to know; any severe damage could effect how the virus physically spreads."

The brunette looked at Steve, seeing him merely glance at her with his eyes before looking away again. She shakily exhaled and proceeded to give an answer.

"That scar is from his fatal wound," she announced. Steve didn't even seem to react to the sentence, possibly due to tuning out of the conversation.

"The wound which killed him," translated Reynolds, nodding his head thoughtfully. "The size of it suggests that he was heavily damaged both externally and possibly internally." His brown eyes trailed to look at Steve. "Was this wound healed the day you first awakened?"

There was a moment of silence before Steve opened his mouth to give his answer, still refusing to look at either individual. "...Yeah," he croaked out solemnly. This caused the doctor to appear concerned.

"Was your revival intentional?" he queried. He only became more concerned when Steve shook his head. The greying doctor looked back at the large scar and examined it again.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked him.

"I'm just concerned for his physical state," he answered. "The Veronica virus repaired this wound. It could be an early sign of mutation; luckily we've caught it in its early stage if it is indeed something to worry about, and it seems to be spreading at a slow pace if it is indeed a mutation. It can easily be treated; come to me if you notice any changes in that area."

Mutation.

Steve had pretty much stopped listening when that word was first mentioned. He didn't care for anything positive which had been mentioned; he was worried that he could become... _that_ again.

"For now there is no reason to worry too much about that," Reynolds announced, snapping Steve out of his trance at last. "Let's move onto your excercises, shall we? I just need to get some of the equipment and I'll need to leave a reminder to check your scar every so often. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Once Reynolds closed the door behind him Steve spoke up, his monstrous eyes glazed over as he stared downwards at nothing in particular.

"I'm not gonna get better," he murmured to Claire, catching her attention. "I'm just going to turn back into a monster."

"No, you're not," Claire told him in a soft tone of voice, leaning forwards and grasping his hand. "You're going to be fine. You heard what he said: if it's a sign of mutation then he can treat it; besides, it's not rapidly spreading so there's plenty of time for treatment."

"How can you stop a virus from spreading?" Steve asked her, slowly turning his head to face her. "A complete antidote would kill me." He saw Claire frown in a worried way.

"You'll probably need to have that whole area of skin removed and grafted with a new and healthy layer," she revealed. "And any damaged organs may need to be replaced in case the spread is there, too. It'll just be like any normal surgical transplant."

Steve's hand slowly gripped around hers, his eyes saddening a little. "Tell him to do it as soon as he can," he ordered. Claire could feel him shaking. "I can't risk becoming that thing again."

"You're not going to," Claire told him, sitting herself beside him. "I know you're afraid, but you've had that scar for three months. You're not going to wake up one day as a mutant; you'll be treated soon enough. Just trust us, okay? Doctor Reynolds is a good doctor; he's helping me in Project Burnside."

Slowly Steve eased himself, looking at her with a somewhat intrigued expression which Claire noticed. Her warm smile was once again on her face.

"Not long before finding you we were in Tanzania," Claire began. "A small village had been drinking polluted water; water polluted with the t-Virus. Quite a few people were rotting zombies, but others had different circumstances. I came across a boy who had been bitten by his zombified sister; his whole arm was large and swollen. Mutated. I wasn't so sure what to do. I thought that I had to amputate his arm or just stick a shot of the antidote into it. The antidote slowed down the spread of the virus, but Doctor Reynolds took the boy with many others. When I next saw him, the boy's arm was human again."

Claire laughed softly at the memory. "The kid was so happy. I asked the doctor how he did it and he simply said that it was by removing the extra flesh and replacing the skin. The boy had to take shots of the antidote three times a week, but no more than one shot per day. Eventually the virus was killed off and the boy was human again."

Steve stared thoughtfully before slowly turning his head, digesting the story into his mind. Claire could see that he was thinking about it, patting the boy on the thigh in a friendly manner.

"You're in good hands, Steve," she assured him. "We're not going to let you down. That's a promise."

 **~End of Chapter~**


	11. Exercises

**~Exercises~**

Reynolds returned to the room and held up a small flashlight, stepping over to Steve while Claire moved to the side to give him some room.

"How is your vision, young man?" Reynolds quizzed, looming over Steve. Steve blinked, appearing baffled by the question.

"Um," he started, "it's fine."

"Has it changed at all since your revival?" Reynolds pressed. Steve shook his head. The doctor held the boy's face. "Keep your eyes open for me," he commanded. Leaning Steve's head back, Reynolds switched on the small light and held it over the teen's left eye. At first Steve blinked rapidly and tried to pull his head back, not appreciating the sudden brightness, but managed to adjust by keeping his eyes slightly squinted. To his relief, Reynolds switched the flashlight off.

"You have very unusual eyes, Steve," he commented. "Obviously their appearance is just a result of the t-Veronica infection."

"Do they count as physical mutations?" Steve queried, now clearly worried by the possibility of mutating.

"No," Reynolds answered. "Eyes like that are indeed incredibly rare even for individuals who have been infected. They're nothing to worry about."

"Rare?" Steve questioned, looking at the doctor curiously. It sounded as if Reynolds was implying that Steve wasn't the first person to have those eyes.

The doctor almost looked uncomfortable, looking over at Claire. The young woman stepped forwards, her arms folded.

"Wesker has eyes like yours," she explained. "Eyes _exactly_ like yours. After escaping Antarctica I spoke to Chris about him; he was able to "fake" his death with a Prototype Virus developed from the Progenitor Virus. Now he is an enhanced being."

That explained why the man was so strong. Steve remembered quite distinctly hw Wesker would grab him by his neck with one hand and lift him as if he was holding up a cup of coffee. And his eyes were always protected by his shades.

"Notably the Progenitor virus was also the base of the t-Veronica virus," Reynolds added to Claire's statement. "It is currently a mere theory but my guess is that the Progenitor virus brings out that appearance within the iris. I'm yet to discover why the effects are uncommon; I have met plenty of individuals with virus infections and have only ever seen these eyes on you and on Wesker."

Steve glanced downwards, allowing himself to think. "...Perhaps it is to do with how we were both revived by our viruses," he theorized. "You said that a virus brought him back to life, and a virus also brought _me_ back to life."

"You're also both human," Claire extended. Steve looked over at her; that thought had not crossed his mind since he still could not look at himself and believe that he was indeed still a human.

"We don't need to focus too much on your eyes at this moment, Steve," Reynolds interrupted. "But I will also note that your pupils did not change when the light hit them which explains why you flinched at the brightness. You must be used to spending time in the dark."

"Pretty much," Steve huffed. Reynolds set the flashlight aside, urging Steve to stand up. He then directed his gaze to Claire.

"Would you mind taking part in this exercise, Miss Redfield?" he asked, catching her by surprise.

"Me?" she reacted before smiling and shrugging her shoulders. "Sure, I don't see why not."

"Thank you," Reynolds thanked with a smile. "Now then, would you mind telling me how much you weigh?" The question almost seemed rude and once again surprised Claire, but she gave her answer regardless of her feelings towards the question.

"Um, about one hundred and sixteen pounds."

Reynolds nodded, looking back over at Steve. "See if you can lift her up."

The instruction came as a surprise to both of the younger individuals.

"What?!" Steve exclaimed. "There's no way I'm doing that!"

"I want to see how physically strong you are," Reynolds explained. "Making you lift another person is the best way to do this since it also tests your speed; lifting a human is different from lifting a heavy weight because you have to first get a firm and comfortable hold on the person and then successfully lift them."

Steve stared at Claire, feeling completely embarrassed that he had to do this. The blue-eyed girl just stared back at him, shrugging her shoulders and smiling awkwardly. She wasn't sure what to say to him at this point.

Letting out a slow sigh, Steve awkwardly paced over to the girl. He was still only wearing his boxers, meaning to him that this was only going to be even more awkward to do.

Once he was in front of Claire he scratched the back of his head, letting out a very awkward and shy chuckle. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Just get on with it, Steve," she ordered.

"Right," Steve responded quickly. "Yeah, right. I will."

He stared at the woman he was still madly in love with for a moment, his eyelids almost drooping a little as he remembered just how much this young lady meant to him. But he couldn't allow his feelings to show in this moment in time, so he quickly worked out a way of lifting Claire before smoothly executing the manouevre. He wrapped one arm around her back and one behind her legs, sweeping her up from the ground and holding her in his arms as if he had just heroically caught her from a dramatic fall. Her blue eyes met his former blue ones, a look of surprise in her expression. Steve himself seemed relatively surprised; in the past he was strong, but Claire felt incredibly light in his arms. Yet the shock wasn't enough to stop him from grinning happily down at Claire's face.

"Impressive," commented Reynolds. "That was quicker than I expected. Could you lift people like that before?"

Steve turned his head to Reynolds, still holding Claire in his arms. "No," he answered honestly. "Well, kinda. It took more effort and people felt a little heavier than this."

"Interesting," Reynolds noted. "Very well, set her down."

As Reynolds noted down Steve's results the redheaded teen carefully set Claire back onto her feet. They both smiled and chuckled slightly at each other.

"So," Claire spoke up after letting her chuckle fade away into her breathing, "are these tests okay for you so far?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders before scratching his head again. "They're not bad," he admitted. "I thought they'd be worse. I should listen to you more, heh heh..."

"Yeah, you really should," Claire agreed, playfully rolling her eyes. Steve nudged her shoulder with his fist and the two laughed quietly again.

Reynolds looked at Steve, having finished writing down the boy's strength results. "Now then, we are going to head outside for this next exercise," he announced. "I recommend that you put your gown back on."

Steve did as he was told but appeared to be curious. He followed the doctor out of the room and made his way down some stairs until eventually the trio was out of the building.

Once again Reynolds turned his attention to Claire. "May I borrow you again, Miss Redfield?" he asked in a hearty tone. Claire chuckled as a response.

"Of course," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "What do you want me to do this time?"

"This might be a little more tiring for you," Reynolds warned. "I want you to run as fast as you can. Steve will do the same."

"So you want us to race?" Steve spoke up, translating it into his own language.

"Essentially, yes," Reynolds replied. "There wasn't going to be an end point in particular; I'm aiming to test how fast Steve can run and how long he can run for."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Claire smiled, nudging Steve's shoulder with her hand and unintentionally causing him to flinch. "Come on! Let's go!" She was already off, not even alerting Steve or Reynolds.

"Hey!" Steve exclaimed, running after her. "That's cheating!"

He could hear Claire laughing as she ran ahead through the small field which surrounded the facility. Reynolds was observing the pair closely, keeping his eyes lock onto Steve.

Steve seemed to be going at a normal pace for a short while, but he shook his head and scowled when his mind forced him to remember being in Wesker's lab. He could hear the alarm bleeping loudly again. He could see flashing red lights. It was the day he tried to escape.

He was running as fast as he could. He was sprinting to outrun the guards and the closing doors.

The memory would not leave him. He found himself sprinting again. Sprinting as fast as his past counterpart.

The ginger-haired boy darted past Claire, a breeze following him as he shot far away. He only stopped at the gates which led to beyond the facility's land.

Deciding that it was best to stop here, Steve stood and waited for both Claire and Reynolds. He could see Claire running towards him, but she was far away. How fast was he even going?

"Steve, that was incredible!" he heard Claire praise in a breathless voice as she finally reached him, smacking her hands onto her knees as she caught her breath with a tired smile on her face. "You can run so fast! I didn't think it was possible for anyone to run like that!" She paused slightly and stood up properly, her smile fading away as she remembered a certain someone. "Well..." she stammered. "Except for-"

"Wesker," Steve interrupted, seeing the surprised look in the girl's eyes. "Yeah, I'm guessing I've got a lot in common with him. The eyes won't be the only thing."

Claire glanced down at her feet with a guilty expression on her face, but Steve gently held her chin and lifted her head up so that she was facing him.

"Hey..." he spoke softly. "What's with that look...?"

"I-It's nothing," Claire stuttered. "I just... I didn't want to tell you... I know you must hate Wesker for what he's done to you..."

"I do," Steve agreed, lowering his hand. "But I'm not the only one he's hurt, am I?"

Claire tilted her head slightly, a somewhat saddened look in her eyes. "...No..." she answered slowly. "You're not..."

Wesker had hurt so many people. Claire remembered how he betrayed her brother. Once he had even threatened her life in order to hurt Chris. He had betrayed the trust of so many people...

"That was the fastest running speed I've ever encountered," Reynolds panted as he finally reached the two, catching their attention. "No human can naturally run that fast. I'll have to calculate the exact measurements later."

All Steve could do was nod his head as he waited for the doctor to catch his breath; he didn't run to the current spot but he had jogged.

"Well then," he spoke up, "let us walk back to my office; you'll finish the last few exercises and then I'll take your blood. After that you will be free to leave."

Again Steve nodded his head, but this time said in addition: "Right." He lifted up Claire, holding her heroically in his arms, as he ran back for the facility. This was quite clearly an attempt to impress the young Redfield.

"I said walk, Steve!" Reynolds called out to him, although now it was no use. The boy was already almost there.

 _..._

"The boy is still out there." A blonde woman with bobbed hair had spoken as she stood not far behind Wesker, who was currently sat by the monitors. His fingertips touched each other in a villainous manner as he delivered his response without looking back at the woman.

"I am no fool, Doctor Bryant, I know that the boy is out there," he calmly reminded her.

"He could come after you," the woman warned as she paced closer to Wesker's chair. "The t-Veronica virus has made him strong, and now he has reunited with Chris Redfield's sibling. Together they could gather enough support to finish you off; they could end this entire organization and ruin your plans."

"They have no idea where I am," Wesker informed, spinning the seat around so that he was no facing Bryant. "They do not know who I work for and they never will know."

"That boy was here before," Bryant said. "He could remember the location."

"He was unconscious when I took him out of this place," Wesker recalled. "And he was dead when he first arrived. I doubt that he will know where this place is."

"So that's it?" Bryant huffed. "You're just going to let him go?"

Wesker let out a cold and quiet chuckle to himself. "I said no such thing about sparing the boy," he announced. "I knew that there was a chance he would get away when I let him loose on that village. I knew that either he would kill Claire Redfield, Claire Redfield would kill him or they would both live and get away together. I fully prepared myself for the latter scenario."

"Well?" Bryant shrugged. "What do you plan to do, then?"

"I know where he is," Wesker revealed as he turned back around to face the monitors. He leaned forwards and pressed a button, switching on one of the deactivated screens. A live feed of the TerraSave facility was displayed, causing Bryant's eyes to widen. A smirk was now on Wesker's face as he looked back at her.

"TerraSave is one of our major obstacles," he explained. "Claire Redfield happens to be a notable member of the organization. I injected Steve with a microscopic tracking device, so when the Redfield girl took him back to her facility I was able to discover the coordinates. With all of this technology at my disposal I have been able to connect nine of the surveillance cameras to these monitors. Now I can see what happens within the building, and I have seen our little pet pacing around like a lost dog."

"Then why don't we go and get him now?" Bryant questioned. "We could take out the whole of TerraSave! We could kill Chris Redfield's sister! It could be so easy!"

Once again Wesker let out a chuckle, speaking in a mocking tone of voice. "Now now, Bryant, it is cruel to keep a dog indoors all the time," he said. "Let the boy enjoy his freedom for a few more days; then I will go and retrieve him."

"Am I not allowed to join you?" Bryant pouted.

"You have a different job," Wesker replied. "I will take Steve to our military facility when I retrieve him. Prepare your experiments there; you promised me that your variants of the t-Veronica virus will succeed in bringing the boy under our control."

Bryant grinned slightly. "Indeed," she responded. "My V-ii virus will restore his strongest form. He will succumb to its power, allowing you and I to have control over him."

"He'll serve as a good prototype for my future projects," Wesker stated. "I'll put him to good use; I'll make sure Miss Redfield finds the military facility so that she may watch him suffer the same fate a second time. While she is gone I will have the TerraSave facility dealt with. I'll send video footage of her death to Chris so that he may come and face me one final time. With him and TerraSave out of my way, I will finally be able to fulfill my destiny. I will cleanse this planet of the weak and let the strong thrive."

Bryant smirked and approached him, leaning over his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him from behind while he faced the monitors. Her eyes seemed to light up the darkness within the room with a pink glow; it was clear that her pink irises were by no means natural.

"The world shall be yours," she said to the man. "You will save this planet from itself, but you'll need some of your puppies to do the dirtiest jobs."

Wesker had no interest in the physical contact the woman was giving him, his shielded eyes still on the monitors as he wore a blank gaze. He could see Steve walking down a corridor with Claire by his side, a lively look on both their faces.

In a few days he was going to break Steve Burnside. Break him so that he could never be repaired again.

 _..._

After a few more exercises had been completed, Steve sat nervously in a chair. His leg was twitching a little.

"Calm down," Claire soothed, clutching his hand while she sat by his side. "It's just a blood test. You must've had some in the past."

Steve didn't verbally answer. Of course he had. He had been given vaccinations, too. But his most recent memories involving needles were highly unpleasant.

Doctor Reynolds had already prepared the equipment. Now he was wiping down the area on Steve's arm, prepping it for the needle. He had tightened a strap further up Steve's arm to close off the area he was taking blood from.

Steve wasn't looking. He knew that if he saw the needle he would have horrible memories. His hand tightly clutched around Claire's as he scrunched his eyes shut. Claire used her thumb to caress his hand, a sympathetic glint in her eyes.

There was no warning. A warning would make it worse. Reynolds carefully pushed in the needle, sticking it into one of Steve's veins. The boy growled and tensed up, but it wasn't over yet. He felt a tingling sensation as the blood was drawn from his body.

He couldn't help but look.

 _..._

"Keep away from me!" Steve pleaded as he tried to escape his metallic bonds, his blue eyes fearfully watching as the woman in the purple dress stepped closer to him. "Y-You're crazy!"

"You killed my dear brother," she accused as she stopped by his side, holding up a gun-shaped syringe in her grasp. "You foul little rat... You should thank me for not returning the gesture!"

"He was trying to kill us! He was tormenting us!" Steve continued to plea. "He would've killed Claire!"

The blonde woman tilted her head curiously before nodding. "Your friend," she recalled before chuckling quietly. "I'm sure she means a lot to you; I would've killed anyone trying to kill my brother."

Was she starting to understand? It sure seemed like it. Maybe at last this could all just be resolved. This was all just one huge misunderstanding which had resulted in a tragedy; this woman seemed to be more composed as opposed to her twin sibling.

There was a kind smile on her face. "You're a precious thing, aren't you?" she observed. "And so is she. You are both young. You are both mere children." Her expression suddenly darkened. "I'm going to enjoy watching you destroy the very thing you love so dearly."

Steve's eyes widened in horror as he tried to pull further away from her. "N-No no no! Wait!" he cried. His escape attempts were useless; the woman grabbed him by his hair and pulled his head harshly so that his neck was exposed.

"Don't!" Steve begged. "No!"

She smiled again at the sight of his fear. "Hush," she cooed. "This is supposed to be a surprise for your friend."

The cold sting of the needle penetrating the side of his neck could be felt. Something was pushed slowly into his system.

"NO!" he howled in complete despair as he realised that his fate was now sealed.

 _..._

"Steve, stop!" Claire shouted. Steve finally came back to his senses; there was a small vial of his blood on the desk and the needle was no longer in his arm. He had jumped from his chair and had tackled Doctor Reynolds out of his. Now he was pinning him to the ground, both of his hands wrapped around his throat.

Horrified, Steve slowly loosened his grip and arose to his feet. He stared down at the doctor, who was doing a good job at remaining calm, before he turned his attention to Claire. She looked afraid.

Reynolds staggered up to his feet. "...Your memories control you," he commented. "Your mind is troubled."

Steve was breathing heavily, still recovering from his traumatizing flashback. That woman wasn't here anymore. He wasn't in that room anymore. He was back in Reynolds' office.

"...Sorry..." he whispered, bowing his head shamefully.

"Don't apologize," Reynolds commanded. "You are done here. Get some rest. Ease your mind."

Steve glanced at him, thinking that the man was hiding some hatred for him now. He expected to catch a slight glare, but instead the man seemed genuine. He actually seemed worried.

He didn't want to say anything else. He was too ashamed. He was embarrassed. All he did was thank the doctor for helping him today and bid farewell before making his leave. Claire followed closely behind, intending to talk to the boy about what had just happened.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	12. Psyche

**~Psyche~**

"What happened in there?" Claire asked while walking behind Steve. It was evident that Steve was deliberately walking at a faster pace to keep his distance.

"I don't know," he answered, shaking his head without looking back at her. Claire walked faster and grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him in the corridor. The redhead halted himself and sharply looked back at her, clenching his fists as if he was preparing to defend himself.

"You just attacked Doctor Reynolds," she pointed out. "I thought you said you could control yourself."

Steve frowned and looked away, almost as though he was in pain. "It's not about that," he told her, pulling his hand away from hers. He let out a shaky sigh. "I just... I saw that woman."

"Woman?" Claire reacted. "What woman...?"

Steve shook his head again, appearing uncomfortable. "I saw the needle and I was there again," he tried to describe. "I couldn't move. I was powerless. She came over to me with a shot of the virus - Alfred's sister, I mean. It was like I was really there again."

Claire stared at Steve silently, her eyes slowly trailing down to the floor as she gave herself time to think and process Steve's description. Steve watched her intensely while she let her thoughts wander, but he was quick to redirect his gaze to something else.

"...I need to get some rest," the boy announced. "Today was tiring." Without giving Claire the chance to respond, Steve hastily made his way to his room. Claire knew that he was right, though she couldn't help but worry for him. While rest was important for him he still seemed desperate to remain distant.

 _..._

 _The next day..._

Steve sat with his hands in his lap, occasionally playing with his thumbs as he watched Reynolds reading through the printed copies of his test results. He hadn't really said anything yet, aside from a quiet greeting and a bit of small talk with the doctor.

"Hmph," Reynolds hummed. "Your results truly are interesting, Steve. Your running speed surpasses that of any regular human's and your strength, despite your body type, is remarkable. You seem to have a higher tolerance for physical pain, if what I've heard from Miss Redfield is true."

The boy remained silent as he watched Reynolds, and it didn't take long for the man to notice his gaze. "You seem troubled," he pointed out. "What's the matter?"

What's the matter? What kind of question was that? Had Reyolds honestly forgotten what happened yesterday?

Steve gave the man a strange look. "Are you not... afraid of me?" he asked. Reynolds almost seemed offended.

"No," he answered. "Am I supposed to be?" Steve merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I attacked you yesterday," he reminded. "I'd be pretty concerned if I was sat in a room with someone as dangerous as me..."

"That's what I needed to talk to you privately about," Reynolds announced, seeing Steve react in an intrigued way. The doctor leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, holding his hands together. "Steve," he began slowly, "I believe you may have a severe psychological problem."

Now Steve was the one who seemed offended. His monstrous eyes narrowed as he locked his sights onto the older male. "Huh?" he reacted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I think you may need some help," Reynolds explained bluntly. Steve stood up abruptly, slamming his hands onto the doctor's desk as he loomed over him in a threatening manner.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" he barked. "I don't have any problems with my head, you got that?!"

"You have involuntary flashbacks," Reynolds reminded. "That's the first indication of a problem. But what really struck me as a problem was your view of yourself. Not only do you have negative thoughts about yourself but you see yourself as a monster."

Slowly Steve sat himself back in his chair, his eyes wide. He thought for a moment before opening his mouth, hesitating briefly before his words came out. "I am a monster..." he stammered. "I killed people, I _ate_ people... I'm depending on an insane woman's virus to keep me alive..."

"This is exactly what I'm referring to," Reynolds cut in. "You refuse to accept that you are human."

Again Steve seemed irritated as he slammed his fist against the desk. "Because I'm not!" he yelled. "No human comes back from the dead! No human has a weird mutant virus keeping them alive! No human has weird abilities! I can't accept that I'm human because I'm just not one of them anymore! I'm something else now!"

Reynolds adjusted his glasses and exhaled heavily through his nose. "You speak as if every human is the same," he noted. "There are humans who suffer from rare diseases which can cause severe physical and mental effects. Are those people not human, Steve?"

Steve slumped back into his chair, though he still seemed highly irritated. He looked to the side, his eyes finding a model of the human body. He subconsciously stared at it while clenching his fists. "That's not the same," he said. "They're born with diseases or they contract them from somewhere. They don't turn into a big green beast like I did."

"You're not a big green beast," Reynolds told him firmly. "I'm looking right at you and I can confirm that you look like a normal human being."

The teenager huffed angrily. "I'm not that thing _now_ but I was turned into that thing not long before I died," he corrected. "And now there's obviously a possibility that I'll turn back into that beast."

"What you used to be has nothing to do with what you are now," Reynolds corrected. "And you're not going to wake up one morning as a monster. I analysed your blood and the virus isn't multiplying rapidly at all; it has mostly settled and is not threatening you. The only possible danger is your scar, but that can easily be dealt with."

Waking up one morning as a monster was Steve's greatest fear. Every morning so far he had to check to make sure he was still human, all because he had a similar dream each night. He would dream of being that monster again. He would dream of swinging that axe. He would dream of obeying the Ashford woman.

He would dream of killing Claire.

The fact that he always had these dreams is what made him panic. He saw them as signs. Warnings. He believed that his body was warning him that he could become that large creature again.

"Steve," Reynolds spoke again, snapping the boy out of his thoughts. "I want you to tell me what you think you are. What's the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of yourself?"

The teen glanced down at his lap shamefully. "I'm a monster," he answered.

"Wrong," Reynolds corrected. "You are a human being, Steve. But if you continue to convince yourself that you are a monster then your mind will succumb to the Veronica virus. You will return to your feral state. Other people will easily be able to turn you into that savage killer again. Your body will not physically mutate but your mind will give in because you are constantly telling yourself that you are a monster."

"But I can't stop!" Steve cried out suddenly, his fists clenched as he bared his teeth in an attempt to hold back tears. His head remained hung in shame. "I can't make it stop, I can't!"

"Why not?" Reynolds pressed calmly.

"Because it's always there!" Steve cried. "Every time I go to sleep I'm there again! It always feels so real! It feels like I'm there!"

"Where?" Reynolds interrogated, remaining incredibly calm as he watched the boy.

"Antarctica!" Steve hollered. "I'm in Antarctica! I'm in that base! I... I'm always trying to kill Claire!"

Reynolds slowly nodded his head as he listened to Steve's hopeless sniffling. The redhead wiped his arm along his eyes to get rid of his tears but he couldn't stop himself from crying.

"The trauma you suffered there has caused your psyche to constantly remain in that moment," the doctor described. "You need to beat that monster."

Steve swiftly lifted his head to stare at him, his eyes red from the tears. "How am I supposed to do that?!" he shot back at the older man. "How am I supposed to beat myself?!"

"Claire told me that you regained control of yourself that day," Reynolds recalled. "That was when you truly were a monster. Now it is just a matter of beating the monster in your mind. Unfortunately I cannot tell you exactly how to beat it, but you need to find the thoughts which pulled you through the first time. If you ever struggle and feel like the virus is beginning to control your thoughts then it is up to you to fight it. Fight it with what you fought it with before. Remind yourself that you are Steve Burnside, a human being. Never tell yourself that you are a monster."

Steve once again fell silent as he thought deeply about what he had just heard, managing to calm himself down. Could he truly convince himself that he was human? It almost sounded ridiculous; how could someone like him be a human?

Reynolds handed the teen a mirror. "Look at yourself," he commanded. Steve flinched at the command but did as he was told. He met his reflection: sickly pale skin, dark spider veins and golden glowing eyes with slits. He was not human.

"Do you have fangs?" Reynolds asked. Steve actually had to check his teeth since he didn't actually know the answer himself.

"No," he answered upon seeing regular human teeth.

"Do you have any extra growths?" Reynolds queried. "Spikes? Claws? Lumps of flesh?"

"No."

"Has your skin turned green or black or any other colour that could never be associated with human beings?"

"...Not really."

"Have any of your body parts enlarged?"

"No."

Reynolds held out his hand and Steve returned the mirror to him. "Then that settles it," he concluded. "You're not a monster."

"But my eyes," Steve pointed out. "These eyes aren't human eyes."

"They are," Reynolds corrected. "You and Wesker are both humans with those eyes. They're just rare, that's all."

"They're caused by a virus," Steve reminded him.

"Some humans have pink eyes due to albinism," Reynolds stated. "Your friend, Mister Tremblay, has heterochromia. That causes his eyes to be different colours. Humans sometimes develop strange eyes."

"My skin makes me look sick," Steve described. "I look like a zombie."

"You're still infected and you did come back from the dead," Reynolds told him. "You weren't going to keep your natural skin tone after everything you've been through. But that doesn't make you any less human."

Steve was about to question his veins but knew that there was no point. Reynolds seemed to have an answer for everything. His fingers traced the veins thoughtfully, however. They still reminded him of what he was.

"Listen," Reynolds began, "I want you to tell yourself that you are human every morning when you wake up and every evening when you go to sleep. That should be a helpful exercise. If you can conquer your psychological problems then you could become a very strong young man, Steve." The older male pushed his chair back and stood himself up, heading for the door and opening it. "I think you are done here. We've discussed your test results and we've had our little chat. Oh, and the results from your blood test showed that the virus is no longer contagious. You're it's host now."

Positive news at last. He wasn't contagious. Claire would definitely be happy to hear that, so he kept it in his mind to tell her.

"If you have any problems then you can come straight back to me," Reynolds assured him. "Or you can go to Miss Redfield or Mister Tremblay. Reaching out to people is important when you are struggling. Remember that."

"...I will," Steve muttered slowly in response. "Thank you, doctor." He nodded his head and finally left the room. The appointment was over.

 _..._

Claire and Mason sat together in the cafeteria that afternoon since both of them did not have any jobs to do. Mason took a large and loud sip from his cup of coffee before he spoke up to Claire.

"Anymore news on bioterrorist attacks?" he asked her.

"No," Claire answered as she used her spoon to absentmindedly stir her own coffee. "Though I've heard back from Tanzania and Chile. Both countries thank us for our help."

"Heh heh," Mason chuckled. "Being a part of this organization is great. We get to kick bioterrorist ass!"

Claire laughed softly before taking a sip of her own coffee. Silently she agreed with Mason's opinion; it was great to work for an organization which made the world a better place.

The cafeteria doors swung open and the atmosphere became tense as Steve marched inside with a frown on his face. He still hated the way people reacted to seeing him, even in a place like this.

Claire stood up immediately. "Steve!" she called out to him, waving him over. She wasn't intimidated by his hard glare.

The ginger teen spotted her and instantly his expression softened, a smile almost curving into his lips. He jogged over to her and Mason but was too hesitant to take a seat.

"Sit down," Claire ordered him, the command being somewhat relieving. "I'll go get you a coffee, okay?"

"No," Steve responded to her. "I can get my own coffee. I'm gonna try some chips, too."

"Food?" Mason gasped. "Haven't you not eaten normal food in, like, months?"

"Yeah," Steve nodded, "but I've gotta try eating normally again. I'm a little scared of what'll happen if I go hungry..." He was already hungry enough since he hadn't eaten in a few days, but starvation could possibly cause him to act feral again. He didn't want to eat flesh ever again, so the boy went to get himself some coffee and a bag of chips.

"Do you think he might be stress-eating?" Mason asked Claire casually. "Doctor Reynolds may have said something to scare him."

"Who knows?" Claire responded as she watched Steve awkwardly getting what he wanted. "I don't even know what Reynolds was talking to him about. He wanted to speak to him alone."

"Probably guy issues," Mason assumed.

Steve quickly returned to the table with his coffee and chips, sitting down beside Claire. "Alright, time to chow down!" he announced, sounding far too chirpy for someone who had been so depressed recently. Claire and Mason both labelled this as bravado, knowing that he was probably anxious about eating the chips and the meeting he had just had with Doctor Reynolds.

The teen opened up the packet while Claire and Mason started casually talking to one another. He picked out one chip and stared at his strangely. Normally he wouldn't notice the smell of something as minor as chips but here he was, enjoying the smell of something edible besides rotting flesh. He almost smiled at his mind's positive reaction to the scene before popping the chip into his mouth and crunching down on it, swallowing it quickly.

 _Delicious._

He started wolfing down the entire packet, catching the attention of Claire, Mason and a few people nearby. He only noticed their judgemental stares when he was finished.

"...Sorry," he apologized awkwardly. "It's um... been a while..."

Claire could only smile, reaching for his hand and placing hers on top of it. "It's okay," she assured him. "We understand. You must be pretty hungry after waiting to get regular food for so long."

Steve's lips twitched and forced him to smile back at her. "Heh heh..." he chuckled almost shyly. "...I might need to go get another bag, actually." Claire laughed.

"Go ahead," she said to him.

 _..._

Steve roared and threw his axe as hard as he could so that it buried itself into the wall. Claire was able to narrowly avoid being hit by it, diving to the ground to save herself before looking back at her friend.

His claws were digging into his own head, drawing blood. He started to scratch himself and tear at his own flesh, falling onto his back as he let out a screech of pain. For some unknown reason he was trying to kill himself.

He dragged his claws along his throat but nothing happened. He wasn't dying. A howl of despair came from him. All he wanted to do was die. He did not need a reason. He just had to do it. He had to kill himself. But his body wasn't letting him.

Claire could be heard screaming. Steve managed to look in her direction, feeling whatever remained of his heart sink. That girl had just been impaled on one of his master's tentacles. She was desperately clinging onto life, but her body soon slumped lifelessly. The tentacle threw the corpse at Steve so that it fell beside him. Once again Steve howled with sorrow and grabbed the girl with his larger hand, cradling her close to his body. Did she die because of him?

 _..._

He woke up screaming. The dream felt more real than any of the others. The image of Claire dead before him was embedded in his mind.

His room was dark, but he was able to see. He quickly ran to his door and swung it open, running down the hallway. He was glad to see that he was still human and was still at TerraSave.

Redfield. The sign on the door indicated that it was her room. Steve stopped just before it before pushing it open. He hoped that nothing had happened to her...

He was filled instantly with relief upon seeing Claire laying in her bed. She was fast asleep.

Steve curiously stepped closer to her. How could she sleep with such a peaceful expression on her face? How was it possible to sleep like that?

He didn't want to leave her. He was too afraid. Afraid of what could happen if she was left alone. Afraid of what could happen to himself if he was left alone. That dream had left him completely shaken.

Maybe she wouldn't notice if he took the other side of her large bed. She was sleeping so deeply right now, after all. The yellow-eyed teen slowly slipped into the bed and used one of his pillows as a barrier to keep him away from Claire. He turned so that his back was facing her and made sure to stay as far away from the girl as possible.

Once he was as comfortable as he could be, Steve closed his eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep.

The image was there again.

He clutched the duvet and curled up, his body starting to quiver. His eyes shut tighter but that only made the image more vivid. It was just horrifying.

He could feel himself starting to cry again. He didn't want to but he could just feel it. Steve wished that he could just stop himself from being so emotional but he just couldn't.

His quiet sniffling was loud enough to awaken Claire. The brunette stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes, putting her guard up when she realised that someone was in the room with her. She sat up swiftly and flicked on her bedside lamp, opening the drawer in her bedside table to reach for her handgun as she locked her eyes onto the shaking lump in her duvet. Before grabbing her gun, however, she recognized the sound of crying. Steve's crying.

"Steve...?" she spoke up slowly. The lump seemed to freeze and go silent for a moment before the soft sound of weeping was heard again and the trembling returned. Claire closed her drawer and gently leaned over, pulling the quilt gently to unveil Steve's body.

"Steve, you're not supposed to be in here..." Claire told him with a sad look on her face. The boy only looked up at her while continuing to sniffle - a sight which Claire couldn't bare to look at. She pushed the single-pillow barrier aside and shuffled closer to him, only to be surprised when he grabbed onto her and buried his face into her shoulder. His quiet sobs didn't stop.

"I can't..." he wavered hopelessly. "I can't... do this alone..."

Claire rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe him, hushing him quietly. "Shh... It's gonna be okay..." she lulled. "I'm here..."

She was. She was definitely there. She was holding him and he was holding her. He wasn't a monster trying to kill her and she wasn't dying at the hands of that woman.

But that just wasn't enough to make him feel better. He was too afraid of what could happen if he was left by himself for too long. He was afraid of something terrible happening to Claire. He had already watched one important woman in his life being taken away from him; he wasn't going to go through that again.

"Help me..." he whimpered like a helpless child. "Help me, Claire... I can't... I can't do this alone anymore..."

"You're not alone," Claire assured him, rocking him gently. "I'm right here." She gently lifted his face to make him look at her, smiling warmly at him. "See? I'm here."

Steve's eyes met hers for a moment, tears rolling down his face. He almost seemed astonished to see her face, but after a good few seconds he continued to sniffle and sob, his grip on her tightening.

"Don't leave me..." he begged. "Please, don't leave me... I can't take it..."

"Shh... I won't leave you..." Claire assured him, her hand now stroking his soft red hair. "Listen... You can stay in here with me tonight, okay? Cuddle up to me all you want... I'm here for you, Steve. I promise."

Promises were never usually taken seriously by Steve. He despised promises because they were so easily broken. But he trusted Claire. He knew that she would never do anything to hurt him.

He nodded his head but was still tearful. Claire held his face and wiped away his tears using her thumbs, locking eyes with him as she smiled. "It's gonna be alright," she reassured. "Come on... You need to get some rest. Tomorrow we're going out to get you some new clothes."

Steve tried to calm himself down, lying down beside Claire while remaining curled up in her grasp. She held him protectively and had no intention of ever letting him go while he was in this state.

She wanted to be there for him no matter what.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	13. Public

**~Public~**

Steve stood with the water running down his head and dripping from his soaked red hair. Morning had come and he was using Claire's shower.

The teen was staring up towards the ceiling in deep thought, letting the water cascade down his body from the head of the shower.

It almost felt weird to keep himself clean. Worrying about his hygiene was something he hadn't done in months. His nose was now blind to any bad smells, but suddenly he had become incredibly self-conscious after Claire insisted that he washed himself. He must've smelled terrible.

Steve was actually quite relaxed for once, though his gaze was one belonging to someone distant. He was too afraid to feel completely relaxed; he was afraid that something bad could happen.

The shower was hot, evident by the steam surrounding him. He could almost feel his mind starting to warn him about the heat. A part of him considered turning up the heat to try forcing his mind to battle with the possessed side of his brain, but right now he felt too tired to try fighting the monster within him. Instead he chose to run the shower a little colder. He shuddered when he felt the change in temperature, but it was nothing painful or uncomfortable. It was actually waking him up a little.

Once he grew used to the cold liquid he finally lowered his head, slowly averting his gaze so that he was staring down at his large scar. He ran his hand along it thoughtfully, wincing at the memory of just how much it hurt him when it was still fresh. No physical changes had been made to the area which made the boy feel slightly more relieved; he wasn't physically mutating. Yet, at least.

 _..._

"I hope my clothes fit him," Mason commented thoughtfully. "He's got real broad shoulders. Hope my shirt ain't too tight on him..."

"I'm sure he'll be alright," Claire replied, sitting outside the room with Mason. "It's either your clothes or mine."

Mason let out a little snicker. "C'mon, Steve would look a god in a pair of your short shorts," he stated. Claire laughed at the statement.

The pair went quiet when Steve's door opened. Out he stepped, wearing a black leather jacket and an old brown T-shirt along with a pair of ripped blue jeans. To finish the look he was wearing black biker boots. Overall the clothes seemed to fit, despite Mason's concerns, although strangely enough they did seem a little baggy on the boy.

"Huh," Mason reacted upon seeing him. "My clothes actually suit ya."

"You know I'm not a fan of this kinda style," Steve responded, giving Mason a glare as if his opinion was obvious and well-known. The other boy just laughed.

"I know," he assured with a smug little smile.

"Let's get going," Claire said with a smile, patting Steve on the back. "We can find you some clothes that suit you."

"Yeah," Mason nodded. "Like one of those dull bomber jackets."

"Hey!" Steve barked. Mason once again started to laugh. The pair always did have very different tastes in clothing, and sometimes they would argue about who looked better.

 _..._

It almost felt strange to be sitting in a car again. He felt a sense of freedom as he gazed out of the window, watching the world pass him by. A trip to the mall with his friends; it almost didn't feel right to be doing this. Life actually felt normal again, as if everything he had been through never happened. Did he deserve to do something like this again? Could he really walk around like everything was normal?

"Here we are," Claire announced as she drove down into a parking lot. She found a space and pulled her car into it, taking out the key and opening the door. "Let's go; we could grab a bite here too, if you like."

Mason climbed out from the back seat, stretching his arms and his back. "I'm starving," he announced. "There's gotta be some fast food place here, right?"

"There's a large food court," Claire recalled. "There'll be something for you there."

Mason looked back at the car, seeing that Steve hadn't even opened his door yet. He tilted his head and approached Steve's window, bending down and knocking on the glass. The redhead jolted at the sound, having had his trance disturbed. He turned and stared at Mason, seeing his friend grin and wave at him, gesturing for him to come out. Steve sat still for a short while before opening the door and finally joining the pair. Claire smiled at him kindly.

"Let's get going," she commanded, leading the way while the two boys followed her. The young men trailed behind slightly with Mason quietly starting up a conversation.

"You like her?" the brown-haired boy asked. The sudden question made Steve stiffen and look at him as if he had just been caught at a murder scene. Mason laughed quietly at his reaction. "Aw, Stevie!"

"Shut up," Steve hissed through his teeth, nudging his companion hard. It didn't stop him from laughing like a giddy little girl.

"Does she know?" Mason queried. "Or is it a secret?"

Steve stopped walking, staring at Claire from where he was standing. Mason came to a halt and looked back at him, tilting his head to the side.

"What?" the tanned boy asked. "Is that a no?"

The redhead was silent, watching Claire walk for a little longer before picking up the pace again. "It doesn't matter," he finally answered. "I'll talk to her later about it."

"About what?" Mason pressed, catching up to him.

"Something I said," Steve replied. "It's... It's not a pleasant memory. I'll fill you in some other time." Mason shrugged his shoulders.

"Whatever you say," he mumbled.

Claire stopped by the elevator which took them up into the mall. "Come on, you two are so slow!" she mocked playfully. Mason gave Steve another nudge, jogging over to Claire with the infected individual walking quickly behind him. The trio then entered the elevator and made their way up into the large mall - a simple task for two of them but a frightening challenge for one.

The doors opened. Steve locked himself into place; these doors reminded him of the ones he would find in that lab. The doors that Wesker would walk through.

Claire could see his fear so immediately held his hand. One small smile of reassurance was enough to temporarily awaken Steve from his painful memories, allowing him to step out of the elevator and into the busy mall where the voices of regular people filled the air.

"Should we get some food first?" Claire offered while keeping her grip on Steve's hand. Mason nodded his head but looked at Steve.

"You hungry?" he asked him. Steve turned his head and stared at Mason for a moment before nodding his head.

"...Yeah," he croaked out. The thought of eating some food actually excited him, but he didn't want to show it. He didn't care where they ate; he just wanted some nice hot food.

"This way, then," Claire pointed, pulling Steve along while Mason walked willingly. They all wandered over to the food court which was packed with people sitting together and just being people.

"I'll get the food," Claire planned as she found a four-person table. You two sit here and tell me what you want."

"Sure thing, mom," Mason commented cheekily, earning a nudge from Claire as she shook her head.

"Steve?" the woman asked. "Anything you'd prefer?"

"Just get me anything," Steve answered, sounding hungry. "Anything edible. Anything hot."

"We'll both have burgers," Mason said to Claire. "Burgers and fries." Claire nodded.

"Alright," she responded. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Once she left, Mason looked back at Steve. "You alright?" he asked him. Steve almost looked offended by the question.

"Yeah, why?" he reacted. Mason shrugged his shoulders.

"You seem thoughtful," he pointed out. "Relax! Let all of those scary thoughts go for now! We're chilling in a mall together!"

Steve shook his head and smiled slightly. "Mason, I'm okay," he insisted. "Really. I'm alright."

"If you say so," Mason replied, "but if you ever have a problem you can tell me. I know enough of your secrets already." That comment made Steve frown a little.

"I know you're saving those secrets to blackmail me with later in life," he huffed. Mason chuckled.

"Wow, you really do know me well," he said.

 _..._

Elizabeth Bryant strolled into the monitor-filled room, seeing Wesker standing by the panel. He didn't even move his head in the slighest when she entered, almost acting as if he hadn't noticed her.

"The HCF are prepared to raid the TerraSave facility," she informed the man.

"Good," was Wesker's immediate response. "We will move tomorrow. We'll take out the facility's power during the night and head inside, then we will capture Steve and bring him to our training facility where we can administer the V-ii virus."

"Understood," Elizabeth nodded. "But might I ask: what do we do with him if the virus fails?"

"That's for you to worry about," Wesker warned blatantly, finally turning his head to look back at the woman. "Steve has the potential to become one of the strongest Bio Organic Weapons in history. If his body rejects the V-ii virus then I will find another use for him. I could always toy with him for a while; a disobedient dog must be scolded when necessary.

"That is indeed true," Elizabeth agreed, stepping closer to the man, "but that boy seems like he'd rather die than obey you."

"He's fragile," Wesker pointed out. "Physically he is powerful but his mind is weak. I will make sure I break him. He will have no choice but to fight for me, and if he is still disobedient then he will no doubt end his own life one way or another."

Elizabeth smirked. "You're a cruel man, Albert," she purred. "The boy's been dead once and has watched both his parents die."

"He'll have a long list of deceased loved ones when I finally get to him," Wesker assured, gazing calmly up at the screens. "And they will not suffer quick deaths."

 _..._

Steve stood at the counter of a clothing store, paying for the clothes he had chosen with cash. Claire and Mason stood and watched him from near the store's exit; it was clear that they were testing his independence in public. Visibly Steve was incredibly uncomfortable, and this was a sign that he felt the same internally.

"He looks so uncomfortable," Mason pointed out, standing with his arms folded and his eyes on Steve.

"He does," Claire agreed, "but he needs to get used to this. He can't stay cooped up in that TerraSave facility forever. He needs to get his life back on track."

"The government might not want that," Mason warned. "They're not gonna let him go back into society if he can't be completely cured."

"There has to be a way," Claire told him firmly. "I'll ask Leon; Chris said he's got some kind of government job now, though the details a pretty vague."

"Well, duh, if you work in the government you have to keep secrets," Mason responded. "He'd probably get killed if he said too much."

"It won't hurt to tell him about Steve," Claire assured. "I'll tell him the situation. He'll tell me honestly about what we can do."

Mason shrugged his shoulders. "I hope he's an honest guy," he said. "Many people working for the government enjoy keeping their secrets, don't they?"

"Leon's not like them," Claire insisted. "He's different. Trust me; I should know."

"If you say so..." Mason muttered in response as he saw Steve walking stiffly over them both with his bag of new clothes.

"You okay?" Claire asked him with a smile. Steve didn't smile back.

"Let's just go," he mumbled, brushing past them. Claire and Mason met eyes for a moment, both silently understanding each other's confusion before they followed Steve out of the store.

The teen briskly walked through the mall, heading for the exit. Claire had to run to catch up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He almost seemed ready to hit her the moment her hand made contact with him. "Steve..." the woman sighed. "What's wrong...?"

"I just don't wanna be out here anymore, okay?" Steve snapped in response. "Let's just go already." He gave her no time to respond as he continued on with his march. Again Claire let out a sigh as she followed him with Mason trailing behind.

Steve returned to the parking lot and stood with his arms folded, waiting for Claire to unlock the vehicle. She did so, allowing him to open the trunk and place his bag inside before getting into the passenger seat and slamming the door hard, indicating that he was in a bad mood.

Claire closed the trunk and looked at Mason before he could open the door into the back of the car. "Mason," she whispered. "Don't say anything, okay? I'll talk to him when we get back to the facility."

Silently Mason nodded his head, knowing not to joke around this time. He sat himself in the car, as did Claire, and the three of them returned to the TerraSave facility. The car journey home was deadly silent aside from the quiet radio which had been playing.

Immediately Steve went straight to his room without saying anything to Claire or Mason. Mason's eyes wandered to Claire and he raised an eyebrow.

"You gonna go talk to him now?" he asked her.

"I'll give him some time to cool off," the young woman answered. "An hour should do."

"Anything can happen in an hour," Mason warned her. Claire frowned slightly.

"He'll be fine," she said. "He's not _that_ bad."

"You can never be too sure," Mason stated. "If I were you I'd go now."

Claire let out a sigh. "Alright," she agreed. "I'll talk to him now, but you'll have to cover for me."

Mason groaned. "Fine," he droned out, dragging himself to do some more cover work as Claire headed up to Steve's room.

 _..._

"I'm a human," Steve muttered to himself as he stared into his reflection within the bathroom mirror. He clutched the sink as he scowled and grimaed, shaking his head in frustration and scrunching his eyes shut. "I'm a human," he said again. He met his own golden eyes hesitantly, but the moment he saw them he growled and punched the mirror hard. The reflective surface shattered, some shards cutting into his hand. He didn't care.

He breathed heavily through his teeth, full of rage. The blood was dripping from his hand and wrist. It barely even stung compared to the pain he was used to.

A flickering flame caught his attention. A very small flame. His yellow eyes trailed to look at it, seeing that it was coming from his blood. It died out fairly quickly but it still startled the boy; how was it possible to have fire coming from his blood?

The very sight made him stumble back in fear, bashing the back of his head against the wall of his bathroom. He hissed in pain, using his non-injured hand to grasp his head instinctively. Blood had trickled on the sink and the floor surrounding him, but no more flames were seen.

He knew that he had to get up but he was already beginning to feel weary. His eyelids fluttered as red liquid leaked out of cuts along his right arm. His head only ached more and more as his vision blurred before all he could see was black.

 _..._

His arm was weak. Wounded. He couldn't carry the large axe even if he really tried to. He simply left it on the ground as he fell on all fours, panting lowly.

Claire approached him with caution but he snarled at her, lifting his stronger arm and threatening to swat her away. The human girl didn't seem afraid of him, placing her hand on the side of his cheek.

"Steve," she said, trying to smile. "It's me... Claire... Do you remember?"

Of course he remembered, but that didn't stop him from snarling at her. He didn't want her near him. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? These wounds were going to kill him. Some of the wounds were claw marks from himself.

"We're going to get you outta here, Steve," Claire told him softly. "You're going to be alright."

He let out a mighty roar, slamming his hand into the ground. That wasn't what he wanted. He had to destroy himself; he was a threat to her existence.

 _..._

"Steve!" Claire's muffled voice could be heard as he re-opened his eyes, his vision still a blur. "Steve, can you hear me?! Steve!"

A very faint groan was emitted from his lips, his vision gradually clearing. "Claire..." he croaked. Claire held him in her lap, treating his arm.

"Oh, Steve, thank goodness..." she responded, seeing Steve wince as she applied a first aid spray. The mirror shards had been removed. "What happened? What did you do?"

"My..." Steve stuttered weakly, still trying to awaken himself. "My blood..."

"Your blood?" Claire questioned, wrapping his arm in a bandage.

"Fire..." Steve tried to describe. "Fire was in it... There was fire, Claire..."

The brunette exhaled shakily and held him close. "Oh, Steve..." she wavered. Her own memory reminded her of Alexia's blood; the Veronica virus made her blood flammable when it came into contact with oxygen. "Don't scare me like that again... I thought you were gone for a second..."

Steve didn't say anything to her. He pulled out of her arms and attempted to stand, supporting himself against the bathroom wall. It looked as though Claire had thrown the mirror pieces into the bathroom bin.

"Steve...?" Claire asked quietly, her eyes tearful as she slowly stood up. "Steve, please... You're starting to scare me..."

"How can you look at me and call me Steve?" the redhead spat, his voice quieter than usual despite the venomous tone. "How can you look at a zombie and talk to it like it never attacked you? Like it was still alive? Like it was still a human?"

"Steve, we've been through this..." Claire reminded tearfully. "You know you're not like a normal zombie..."

"It doesn't matter what I'm like," Steve growled, still leaning against the wall. "I'm not Steve. How can I be? Steve became a monster. Steve died."

"Steve, don't," Claire commanded. "Just don't. Not now."

"When Steve walked around in public nobody cared," Steve continued. "They didn't stop to stare at him. They didn't ask him questions about his eyes or ask him if he was sick because of his appearance."

"We've been through this," Claire repeated, feeling herself losing to whatever she was holding back.

"Steve wasn't a monster!" Steve cried out. "He didn't eat people! He didn't bleed fire! He wasn't enhanced by a virus!"

He was suddenly cut off by a swift and brutal slap across the face. The sound echoed due to the acoustics within the bathroom. With wide eyes he stared at Claire in utter horror.

"That's enough," the woman growled out, sounding as though she was about to break down crying. "I don't know what the hell is going through your mind, but whatever it is, make it stop. Stop listening to whatever your head is telling you. Stop listening to what other people tell you. We know who you are. _You_ know who you are. You are still Steve Burnside. You will _always_ be Steve Burnside."

Slowly the boy slid down the wall and fell to the floor, holding his cheek thoughtfully while remaining horrified. He could only stare at the ground, but Claire forced him to look up at her as tears ran down her face.

"It doesn't matter that you've changed," she said to him. "People always change."

Still Steve was silent. Claire sighed and crouched down in front of him, seeing him curl up a little.

"What did they say to you in the store?" she asked him. "Someone said something, didn't they? That's why you were mad earlier?"

Steve's eyes only widened even more as he stared at the girl. He slowly averted his gaze before closing his eyes and hugging his knees close.

"I heard someone talking about me while I was in the fitting room," he admitted, his voice barely there. "They were talking to someone about "that zombie-looking guy". He said all sorts of crap; I heard him saying that he should take a picture to send to the police or a hospital. That's why I wanted to leave that stupid place."

Claire was speechless, disgusted at the nerve of some people in this world. "Oh, Steve... I'm sorry, that's awful..." She reached forwards to touch his shoulder but he lifted his arm to deny the gesture of comfort. Surprised, Claire hesitantly lowered her own arm.

"Stop it..." Steve grumbled. "No more sympathy. Stop feeling sorry for me, Claire. I'm not a little kid."

"Sorry," Claire apologized, standing up and offering her hand down to the male. He simply stood up without her help, not looking at her. Claire's head tilted slightly as she stepped closer to him. "What's gotten into you, Steve? I thought we talked about this; you can't just suffer in silence. I know that right now you must feel hurt; I just want to be by your side."

By his side. Was that really true? Or was she just saying that?"

"...Claire..." Steve spoke up slowly, lifting his head a little but still not looking at her. "Do you rember the day I died?"

The question stung her heart. Tears were now desperate to leak from her eyes. "O-Of course I remember..." she stammered. Steve finally turned his head to face her.

"And what I said?" he added to his question. "Do you remember that, Claire? My final words to you?"

Of course she did. Tears finally rolled out of her ducts and down her cheeks. "I'll remember what you said to me until the day I die," she told him honestly. "Even if I forget my own brother's face I'll remember your words."

Steve's expressioned softened slightly before he looked away, walking out of his bathroom and into his bedroom with his back facing Claire even as she followed him out.

"And?" he asked her. "Do those words mean anything to you?"

Claire stuttered for a moment. "Y-Yes, Steve, of course they do..." she whimpered, stepping closer to the tense boy. "I-If anything... I-I was wondering if they meant anything to you..." There was a pause. Steve visibly loosened up as he listened to what Claire said next. "You said those words seconds before you were gone. Now that you're alive again... do you... regret what you said? Have you... changed your mind?"

Steve's head shook slowly. "I love you," he spoke out almost in an emotionless tone of voice. "I love you, Claire. I always will love you." He turned his head slightly, almost looking back at her. "But why would you love a dirtbag like me? I bet that Leon friend of yours is so much cooler, isn't he? I bet I'm nothing compared to the guys you could get."

Her hand grabbed his suddenly and she forced him to turn around and face her. "You have no idea how much I wanted to see you again," she told him firmly. A smile was sudden to appear on her face. A warm, loving but tearful smile. "Why wouldn't I love that face of yours?"

"Claire..." Steve gasped quietly, hearing the girl giggle.

"You know, I really did like your smile," she admitted. Steve was just staring at her with tears in his own eyes, but he was able to take the hint. He shakily managed to smile at her. Claire let out a sweet chuckle as she held his face. "Look at you!" she chirped tearfully. "That's the smile I've missed! Oh, Steve, you have no idea how much I've wanted to see you again..." She buried her face into his shoulder as she hugged him tightly. "I wanted you to know that I felt the same way about you. You never got my answer, so here it is." She held his face with both hands, tears staining her cheeks as she smiled at the redhead. "I love you too, Steve."

Steve's smile was more stable now, but he started to cry. He cried with joy. He cried with relief.

"Claire!" he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her as he cried tears of pure happiness. He even sounded like he was laughing.

The woman of his dreams truly loved him back. He had the rest of his life ahead of him. If he had to remain out of the public eye then that would be fine if he had Claire by his side. He could grow old with her and die like a normal person. He could die of old age.

But only if certain things weren't going to get in his way...

 **~End of Chapter~**


	14. Blackout

**~Blackout~**

Steve entered the cafeteria that morning, wearing his new clothes. He wore baggy green pants and a plain yellow shirt, on top of that being being a lightish blue hooded jacket. He wore black boots which were practically covered by his trousers and, as a finishing touch, he had a dark brown scarf wrapped around his neck.

When Claire spotted him from her table she couldn't help but compare his attire to his prison uniform from Rockfort Island, though she knew not to vocalize the comparison for Steve's sake; it was likely that he had chosen an outfit similar to his prison clothing subconsciously.

The redhead walked over with his hands in his pockets and his head down, then sitting opposite the young woman. He managed to smile at her. "Morning," he said. Claire smiled back brightly and reached for one of the hands he had just placed on the table, grasping it and squeezing it sweetly. It wasn't the hand which had been bandaged previously.

"Good morning," she responded to his greeting. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Steve answered with a small nod. "Yeah, definitely better..." He looked around the cafeteria curiously. "Where's Mason?" Claire just chuckled.

"He's having a bit of a lie in," she explained. "He was working late last night because he had to cover for me again."

"Oh," Steve muttered, a look of guilt in his eyes. "He covered for you because you were babysitting me."

Claire rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. "Stop making it sound like everything's your fault," she commanded.

"But-"

"Shh!" Claire hushed, interrupting the boy. She pushed a plate towards him with a sugar donut on it. "Here. I got you something to eat."

Steve's hungry eyes locked onto the donut as he snatched it from the plate, wolfing it down in an instant. Immediately after finishing the snack he froze, feeling ashamed of himself for eating like a wild animal. In an attempt to act as if nothing happened he took a napkin and wiped the sugar off his hands and his mouth.

"I've got some work to do today," Claire announced. "Think you'll be alright on your own for a while?"

A look of worry was on Steve's face, but he made himself hide it. "S-Sure," he smiled nervously. "I'll be fine. What's Mason gonna be up to today?"

"Not too much, I hope," Claire answered. "Maybe you can help out with his work."

"I might do," Steve planned. "But I doubt he'd do the same for me so I'm gonna let him suffer." Again Claire let out a chuckle.

"Oh, you," she reacted, giggling. Steve smiled at her reaction, happy that he was brightening up her expression with his returning humour.

 _..._

 _Punch. Punch. Punch._

How could he become a decent government agent if he didn't train frequently? Thumping away at the punching bag made his hands ache, his shirtless form coated in sweat from previous exercise. His hands were wrapped in linen cloth as their only form of protection.

He let out his anger. He let out his frustration. He was worried about Sherry. He was worried about what could happen to her. Nobody seemed to know about what the future had in store for her. Was it even safe to keep her in protective custody being treated like some kind of lab monkey?

 _Punch. Punch. Punch._

Ada. He kept hearing stories about Ada being alive even though she died in his arms. Apparently she was working for Albert Wesker. Could that really be true? A woman he thought to be dead was working with one of the worst men alive?

 _PUNCH._

He knocked the punch bag from its hook with a yell of frustration. He stood there and panted for a moment, staring at the bag as if it were his worsed enemy, before he wiped the sweat from his forehead using his hand. He caught his breath and looked over at the row of other punch bags he was yet to use. After finally recovering, the young man walked towards the line and prepared to pick up another target, only to hear a buzz. Then a ring. A phone. His phone. Someone was calling him.

Knowing that it was foolish to ignore any phone call with a job like his, the man practically ran towards the bench and fished the device out of his gym bag, answering the called.

"Who is this?" he asked immediately.

 _"Leon?"_ came the voice on the other end of the line. Instantly Leon recognized that this voice belonged to Claire Redfield.

"Claire!" he reacted, almost sounding startled. "You shouldn't call me at times like this, it's dangerous!"

 _"Relax, Leon, I'm not just some civilian anymore,"_ Claire reminded him. _"Chris got me a job at TerraSave."_

"TerraSave?" Leon responded. "I've heard of that organization. You guys are campaigning to stop bioterrorism, right?"

 _"Yeah,"_ Claire answered. _"Listen, I have to talk to you about something important. Is now a good time?"_

"I'm not working," Leon replied, indicating a "yes" to Claire.

 _"Okay, I'll try and be quick,"_ Claire said. _"First, though, do you know anything about the Rockfort Island and Antarctic outbreaks?"_

"I know enough," Leon assured. "Both outbreaks involving the Veronica virus, right?"

 _"Yeah,"_ Claire responded.

"That friend of yours ended up becoming infected, didn't he?" Leon recalled, knowing that such a question was risky to ask when the events were still relatively recent. "Apparently Wesker took his body."

 _"He did,"_ Claire stated. _"He took his body to secure samples of the Veronica virus for himself."_

"I'm sorry," Leon condoled.

 _"Don't be,"_ Claire said to him. _"Steve's back. He's currently staying in the TerraSave facility."_

"What?" was Leon's reaction. "You're saying you recovered the body, right?"

 _"Not exactly,"_ Claire corrected. _"We brought him back alive. We found him during an expedition in South America, and now he's staying here."_

"And... he's human?" Leon questioned slowly.

 _"Yes, Leon,"_ Claire answered. _"Apparently the virus is not contagious, but he's having a hard time accepting everything that happened. He's not doing too well in public, either."_

"You shouldn't be letting him out in public," Leon instructed. "Contagious or not, he's a walking dead man. Certain companies might be after him. People will want to know how a dead man is walking the streets."

 _"That's why I called you,"_ Claire revealed. _"I need your help, Leon. We've gotta do something with him; he can't just stay cooped up in this facility for the rest of his life."_

Immediately Leon was reminded of Sherry's situation. She was having the same problem; locked away for her own safety. The man paused for a moment before he answered.

"I don't have any upcoming missions," he told the woman. "I'll tell my superiors that I'm going to be absent; I'm coming to your facility."

 _"You'd do that for me?"_ Claire chirped.

"For you and as part of my job," Leon answered honestly. "I can't ignore a call about a virus infection; it's my specialist area now."

 _"Yeah, because you're a genius when it comes to virus infections,"_ Claire commented sarcastically but playfully. Leon barely smiled but let out a single huff in response.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," he told her, ignoring her remark. "Tell your boss or whatever that I'm coming."

 _"I will,"_ Claire assured. _"Thank you, Leon."_

"Don't thank me yet," the man muttered. "See ya." He ended the call and put his phone back in his bag, standing there as he thought about how to get to the facility. His final comment to Claire was a warning about what could potentially happen once he arrived; Steve may not have a happy ending to his story.

 _..._

Steve sat just outside the facility in the grass, staring up at the sky as he held his knees close to his chest. Listening to the wind rustling the leaves on the trees along with the sound of birds singing and squawking made him feel like he had finally found peace. He closed his eyes, letting the peaceful atmosphere flood into his mind. This is what he wanted to start thinking about. Not bioterrorism. Not the two outbreaks he was involved in. Not his violent past. He just wanted to think about this: the smell of fresh air, the gentle breeze and the peaceful sounds surrounding him.

"It's peaceful out here, don't you think?" came Reynolds voice, snapping Steve out of his peaceful trance. The boy turned his head and saw the man standing behind him with a smile on his face.

"Doctor Reynolds..." he murmured in reaction. The man walked over and stood by his side, looking around.

"Sometimes even I enjoy some peace and quiet outside like this," he admitted. "It's good for your health, you know."

Steve returned his focus to the sky above him, continuing to listen to the rustling leaves as Reynolds sat beside him.

"It's nice to see you in normal clothes for once," the doctor said. "Wearing a hospital gown can be humiliating; especially when you're not even in a hospital."

"Heh, yeah..." Steve responded quietly, somewhat amused by the comment. Reynolds caught sight of his bandaged hand, a concerned frown now on his face.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, seeing Steve instantly become defensive as his golden eyes met his brown ones.

"...Nothing," he lied. "I just... burned myself after spilling some hot coffee." He could see that Reynolds did not believe him.

"Steve..." the man sighed, causing Steve to sigh himself and look away.

"Alright," he grunted. "I got angry last night. I was in my bathroom and I punched my mirror. Some of the shards cut my hand."

Reynolds raised an eyebrow. "Why did you get angry?" he quizzed. Steve was still looking away.

"I tried to tell myself that I was human," he explained, "but I just couldn't convince myself. All I see is a monster."

"You still see yourself as a monster, hm?" Reynolds figured out. Steve shook his head - not in denial, but in frustration.

"I can't stop myself from thinking that way," Steve admitted. "My dreams are still the same. I'm still a monster. Just... in control."

"That's a start," Reynolds praised. "You're starting to control your mind now."

"It's not like that," Steve corrected. "I'm still an aggressive beast. I just... I attack myself. I... I try to kill myself."

Reynolds looked worried again. "That's not good," he said, finally causing the boy to look at him. "That means your mind believes that you dying is the only solution."

"No," Steve denied. "I'm not... I don't think like that. I'm just trying to kill the monster. That will make me in control, right?"

"You're infected with the Veronica virus," Reynolds reminded flatly. "You'll never be cured. It may not be contagious and it is possible that your body will not mutate again, but inside there is still a monster. If your mind was weaker or if your body had never died then that monster would be in control; you've already been controlled by it once after your revival. You need to learn to accept that it's there. You can't kill it without killing yourself. You have to control it."

"But how?" Steve questioned. "How do I control something that isn't physically there?"

"You will figure it out," Reynolds assured. "Fight it but don't kill it. Try and control it." The older male stood himself up. "Well, I've got work to be doing. If you have any problems with anything come straight to me. That reminds me; how is your scar?"

"My scar?" Steve echoed. "...Oh. It's fine." Having dressed himself this morning Steve hadn't seen any changes.

Reynolds smiled. "Good," he said. "Well, have a good day. I'll see you for a check-up in a few days or so." Steve simply nodded his head.

"Bye," he muttered as the man returned to the building, heading inside. Steve thought about what he said, but quickly returned to his serene state.

 _..._

Evening had now fallen. The sun had started to set. The air was cold; Steve had retreated inside hours ago.

Claire approached Mason, seeing him coming out of a room where he had been walking.

"Oh," the boy reacted to her presence. "Hey, Claire. What's up? Is Steve doing okay?"

"Steve's fine," Claire assured, "but I need to talk to you."

"What about?" the teen asked.

"Let's go in here," Claire gestured, walking back into the room Mason had just attempted to leave. She closed the door once both of them were inside.

"So what's up?" Mason queried, folding his arms.

"It's Steve," Claire answered, letting out a soft sigh. "I contacted Leon and asked him for help. He said he'd come straight here to the TerraSave facility to discuss what should be done with him."

"You haven't told Steve about this, have you?" Mason assumed. Claire shook her head.

"I don't want to make it sound intimidating," she excused. "Steve's very sensitive right now. If he heard that Leon, or anyone working for the government, was coming to see him then he'd... well, he'd freak out."

"I'd freak out, too," Mason confessed. "So, what's the problem? What's wrong with Steve?"

Claire exhaled through her nose. "People can tell he's not ordinary," she announced. "That's what bothered him yesterday. People were planning to take secret photos of him to send to the police. And when I told Leon about Steve he said that he shouldn't even be going out in public; people could be after him."

"How can this Leon guy help?" Mason questioned. "If he's saying that Steve shouldn't be in public then surely you should just keep him hidden in this facility or maybe even in a house. I'm pretty sure anyone working for the government will try to take him in for themselves to use in experiments."

"Leon won't let that happen," Claire assured. I trust him."

Mason was about to respond to Claire, but suddenly the lights in the room went out. No light poured in from outside the room, either, indicating that the lights in the corridor had also gone out. It was a blackout.

"What the...?" Mason reacted.

"The power's gone out..." Claire narrated, feeling for the door handle. She sounded worried; a facility like this wouldn't get a blackout for no good reason. The woman swung open the door and marched into the hallway with Mason following her.

Men could be heard shouting. Flashlights could be seen accompanied by guns carried by men clad in black. Claire's eyes widened as she pushed Mason back into the room.

"What the hell?!" Mason exclaimed.

"Shush!" Claire hissed, covering his mouth. "Stay in here. Keep yourself hidden. I'm going to find Steve."

Mason pushed her hand away. "They have guns, Claire!" he pointed out.

"Stay," Claire commanded, slamming the door on the boy and running through the darkness. She had to find Steve; out of everyone here he was someone likely to be targeted by these people, whoever they were.

 _..._

Steve could see in the darkness. That's one advantage to being exposed to it for so long. He sprinted through the hallways, running past people and trying to avoid being spotted by the masked men. This was reminding him of another dark day...

The sight of TerraSave workers on their knees with their hands behind their heads only reminded Steve even more of what happened in his own home, but he had to ignore what was going on. He couldn't freeze up again. He had to find Claire and Mason and get out of this place.

Nobody being held at gun point resembled Claire or Mason, relieving the boy. But then he worried himself by coming up with the theory that involved them both being captured by these men. If that was the case then he'd have no idea how to trace them; he wasn't even sure who they were. Were they Umbrella? Or were they the company who previously held him?

As he turned a corner he felt someone suddenly grab him from behind, their grip like a vice. They clasped a gloved hand over his mouth before he could scream or call for help. The teen did his best to resist, thrashing and squirming and attempting to yell, even trying to bite down on the individual's hand. That's when he heard a familiar chuckle.

"Did you really think that you had escaped from me?" the voice asked. It was Wesker. Steve didn't stop to freeze in fear, continuing to wriggle desperately to get away.

"I hope you've had fun," Wesker commented falsely. "Play time is over."

"Let go of him," came another familiar voice. That's when Steve finally froze in horror. He could see Doctor Reynolds standing with a handgun aimed directly at Wesker, his flashlight almost blinding the teen when he caught sight of it.

Wesker raised his eyebrow but didn't seem at all threatened by the man. "Doctor Reynolds," he acknowledged. "It's been quite some time."

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again," Reynolds responded in a dark tone. "Not like this, Albert."

"I could say the same," Wesker coldly replied with a slight smirk.

"If only Chris had put some bullets in your body when you were first presumed dead," Reynolds hissed. "You've made enough people suffer just by being alive."

"All for good reason," Wesker assured, still smirking. "Though you must admit, some people are actually alive because of me. Isn't that right, Steve?"

"You want to use him in one of your B.O.W. projects," Reynolds stated. "How many of those things have you created using people like him? Innocent people?"

"I wish I knew," Wesker sarcastically answered. "Unfortunately, I lost count. It's difficult to keep track of how many people I inject with a virus; some don't even transform into anything useful, so they have to be disposed of."

Reynolds grit his teeth. "You sick bastard..." he rasped. He only heard Wesker let out another chuckle.

"Your feeble mind could never understand the necessity of their sacrifices," the man in shades remarked. "This world needs saving. Steve could play a part in saving it, if he's given the chance."

A muffled yell could be heard coming from Steve, who still had Wesker's hand sealing his mouth. Reynolds scowled hatefully at the blonde man, his finger on the trigger of his pistol.

"I won't let you hurt anymore people," he spat. "It's over, Wesker."

"It is," Wesker agreed, "but not for me." Without giving Reynolds any time to process his comment, Wesker took his hand away from Steve's mouth and pulled out his own gun. The sound of a shot being fired rang in Steve's ear as his face went pale. He watched as Reynolds' eyes widened and his body jolted. A patch of red began to appear and grow on his chest, obvious to see due to his white clothing. The man slowly lowered his head and stared at the damp crimson patch, coming to terms with what had just happened. He then managed to lift his head and look in Steve's direction.

"Steve..." he wavered. "Run..." He managed to fire one bullet at Wesker's shoulder, almost hitting Steve. Wesker dodged it narrowly, the movement causing him to loosen his grip ever so slightly. Steve pushed the man away and ran towards Doctor Reynolds as he limply fell onto his front, dropping both his gun and his flashlight.

"Doctor!" he cried out, falling to his side. He checked for a pulse, but Reynolds was already gone. Wesker grit his teeth and growled.

"Gr! You little..." he rasped, marching towards the redheaded teen. Steve's burning eyes stared at Wesker but he knew that he had to move, so he stood up and jumped back as Wesker attempted to grab him. "Hold still!" the man demanded.

"You killed him!" Steve roared.

"It was his own fault," Wesker excused, eyeing the boy cautiously to see what his next move was going to be. He flashed a smirk at Steve. "Tch. Are you going to listen to a dying man's words, Steve? Are you going to run away?" The man took a few slow steps closer to the boy, intending to instill fear into his head. Steve glowered and clenched his fists.

"I'm going to kill you," he snarled. Wesker stopped and stared at him, almost surprised at Steve's guts. He was barely prepared for when Steve ran at him and threw a punch to his face, but he had quick reflexes. While Steve's first punch did land against his cheek, his second was halted. Wesker caught his fist and bent it back, listening as the boy yelled out in pain. Before breaking any bones, however, Wesker kicked Steve in the side and sent him flying into the wall.

The blond male began to walk towards him again, expecting him to stay down from the hit. Expecting him to cower. But Steve locked his sights onto Wesker again and swiftly moved to the side, back on his feet once again.

"I see you've grown in confidence since our last encounter," Wesker commented blankly. Steve said nothing in response, instead tearing off the bandages on his arm. His wounds had stopped bleeding but were still fresh, meaning that they were vulnerable. Choosing not to think about his next action, Steve used his other hand to tear the wounds open. He grimaced and snarled in agony but continued to rip them open to make more blood seep from within him. As Wesker ran towards Steve in another attempt to grab him, the redhead raised his blood-covered arm. It almost looked as if his arm burst into flames. While Steve had every right to find this worrying and terrifying he knew that right now he had to use this fire to fight his former superior, so he held up his arm as if he were holding up an invisible shield. The flames scorched Wesker and even burned through his clothes as he made contact with the appendage, causing him to back away. Steve held his arm there for a few seconds longer before the flames died out.

Wesker quickly recovered from his burn wounds, seizing the opportunity to attack Steve now that his fire was gone. He punched the boy across the face twice, then grabbing his shoulders and pulling him towards the ground. Before Steve fell on his front, however, Wesker kneed him hard in the stomach. The teen spluttered, coughing up a small amount of blood which landed on Wesker's leg and burned him slightly, but not enough to really harm someone with his power. The blond man brought his fist upwards, performing a perfect uppercut to the younger male's face. Once again Steve was launched, first travelling up before crashing back down onto his back. Wesker marched over to him and grabbed him by his neck with one hand, lifting him up into the air.

"You're still pathetic," the older man insulted, pushing Steve up against the wall as the teen clawed at his hand. Wesker brought his second hand to his throat, pressing both of his thumbs hard against it and thus beginning to choke him. Steve attempted to gasp and cough, his eyes watering from a lack of oxygen. He kicked his legs and scratched Wesker's wrists, trying to pull his hands away. His fixed hatred soon left his expression as he stared in the direction of Reynolds' body. He had failed him. He had let him down.

And, soon enough, the boy's arms flopped to his side as he gave in to Wesker.

It was time for Wesker to call back his troops. He now had what he came for.

Mission accomplished.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	15. Virus

**~Virus~**

It had been a good few hours since the attack. Claire and Mason stood together outside, watching as paramedics dragged out covered bodies on stretchers.

"Steve's gone," Claire told Mason, trying hard not to sound worried. "He's nowhere in the facility, dead or alive."

"Wait, are you serious?" Mason reacted. "That's gotta mean those guys took him! But who were they?!"

"I'm pretty sure I know exactly who was in charge of them," Claire confirmed, "but I don't know anything about the organization. Oh god, we have to find him, Mason! I can't... I can't lose him again!"

"You're not going to," Mason assured. "He's my buddy, too; I'm not letting him suffer again. We're going to rescue him. We're going to find who took him and we're going to bring him back."

Claire stared at him in the eyes, still doubtful, but then she nodded her head. "We have to find anything we can which may lead us to Steve," she stated. "And we have to be quick; we must reach him before it's too late."

 _..._

His eyes had glazed over as he tried his best to distance himself from his current situation. His head was hung solemnly as he stared at the ground.

Here he was again: restrained in a large empty arena of some sort. His arms were stretched out to the sides by tense chains holding him in place.

A part of him wanted to scream, but that's what they wanted. A part of him wanted to cry, but that's what they wanted. He had to remain strong. He couldn't let anything else happen to him. He was lucky enough to have a second chance; a third chance would never happen, and Wesker would definitely make sure of that if he aimed to kill him.

There as a twinge in his abdomen. He tried to ignore it but he couldn't; not after it started to painfully throb. Something down there was becoming sore. Steve began to grimace and wriggle with discomfort; this wasn't right.

A small and very brief yell of pain came from him before he clenched his teeth together, trying to supress the sound. He froze up, however, when he heard a feminine giggle echo throughout the room. Coming towards him was a woman wearing a white lab coat over a short, strapless black dress. Her hair was short and blonde and her eyes were an unnatural pink.

The more he stared at her the more she changed into a woman with long blonde hair and cold blue eyes. Her outfit became a long purple dress. Steve had to look away and close his eyes, no longer wishing to survive his own hallucinations. He didn't want to see Alexia Ashford.

"Is something hurting, dear boy?" Elizabeth asked him as she approached. "You look like you're in a lot of pain. Perhaps I should help you ease it?" She stood just in front of him but his eyes remained closed, causing the woman to pout. She took a hold of his face with both hands, lifting his head and staring at him despite his vision still being obstructed. "It's rude to ignore a lady when she's asking you a question."

"Keep your hands off me," Steve snarled in a threatening, hoarse tone. His golden eyes reopened as he stared at this woman with pure hatred.

Elizabeth did as she was told, staring at the young male in shock before she burst out laughing. "Now I can see why Albert wants you!" she chortled. "Look at your fighting spirit! You think you've got a chance of getting out of here, don't you?"

"Keep away!" Steve barked, attempting to lunge at her but ultimately failing. She giggled more at his failed resistance.

"You're also disobedient, just like he said," she noted. "That's all about to change, though, isn't it?"

His eyes went wide. No. Not again.

 _"I'm going to enjoy watching you destroy the very thing you love so dearly."_

He couldn't become a monster again. He just couldn't. He watched as Elizabeth held up a shot of the virus, thrashing desperately at his chains. "I said keep away!" he bellowed, managing to pull one of his chains hard enough to snap it from the hook. He grabbed the woman's wrist and began to squeeze as hard as he could, listening to her growl and yell in pain. He could crush her bones with ease if he wanted to.

A bullet hit Steve in the shoulder, prompting him to drop Elizabeth and let his free arm drop to his side. Elizabeth made sure she was out of Steve's reach, look back to see Wesker entering the spacious room.

"You should be saving your strength, Steve," he said coldly. "You don't want to be tired when Claire arrives."

Steve perked up, still in a lot of pain from his shoulder wound. "C-Claire?!" he reacted. No... this was going to be a trap again. They wanted him to mutate like how he did back in Antarctica. "You bastard, I'm not going to hurt her!"

Wesker simply walked up to the boy and grabbed his loose arm, holding it behind his back and listening to him yell in both pain and anger.

"No!" the boy cried out. "Not again!" Wesker continued to hold him still, nodding to Elizabeth. Steve tried everything he could to move, but once again he felt that cold sting in the side of his neck. He could hear Alexia. He could see that room.

All he could do was howl in pure horror as Wesker let him go. History was going to repeat itself.

"If this serum doesn't physically transform you then that's not a concern," Wesker explained. "It is designed to kill your mind. To reprogram it. You can't fight the V-ii virus, Steve; this one was specially made for you."

The redhead tried to lean forwards even as Wesker fixed his restraints. His abdomen was hurting him again, this time even more. The pain seemed to be spreading through his body.

"Come, Elizabeth," Wesker commanded as he began to leave the room. "Let us give the boy some alone time." Elizabeth nodded her head and smirked at Steve before following her superior.

Steve's eyes were starting to go bloodshot. They almost looked like they were bleeding. He could feel himself falling victim to the V-ii virus. Everything went white; this is what death felt like to him in the past.

 _..._

For the first time Steve was looking up at his own monstrous double. The mutated version of himself snarled in his face, but Steve wasn't the least bit threatened.

"I understand now," he said to the beast. "I cannot control you by fighting you. I cannot control you by killing you. But I can't just sit back and let you control me."

He walked towards the grotesque monster, watching it back away from him and roar in an attempt to threaten him.

"Steve Burnside used to be me and no one else," the redhead stated. "But then he became you. Now there are two Steve Burnsides sharing the same body." The boy stopped walking, listening as the mutant growled and snarled.

"You hate me," he continued. "At first, I hated you too. I hated the fact that you were still there. I hated knowing that once I was actually you. You hate me for the same reasons; you're disgusted by me. You can't look at me and imagine being the same person as me." A solemn look grew in his eyes. "But that's not just it. You don't just hate me because I'm a different you, but because I'm the you that you still wanna be. I'm the Steve you wish you still were. The Steve you can never be again."

He reached up for the tyrant's face, placing his hand on his cheek. The large B.O.W. snarled in his face but was quick to ease itself upon seeing Steve's look of empathy.

"The only way to control you is to understand you," Steve announced. "To accept you. To embrace you. We can work together. We can both be Steve Burnside." He pressed his forehead against his counterpart's, closing his eyes. "If you wanna be Steve Burnside then you have to help me fight," he said. "We have to fight for Claire; we both love her and want to protect her. If you don't help me fight, then we're going to kill her. Steve Burnside will die before then."

The monster growled at first, but then crouched down to show that it was no longer hostile. Steve half-opened his eyes, seeing that finally he had become the master of his other half - not by force, but by understanding him.

Today was not going to be the day he transformed into a mutant.

 _..._

Steve's eyes slowly re-opened. His body had not changed. He was still human.

But he couldn't fight his mind. He was still succumbing to the mental effects of the virus.

And, soon enough, he knew that he was going to grow tired of fighting the physical effects of the virus.

Inevitably, he was going to transform.

 _..._

"No tire tracks," said Claire. "No dropped ID. No footage on the cameras. Damn it, it's hopeless!"

"There's gotta be something," Mason said. "Any footprints? Any footage from before the power was taken out?"

"It's all gone," Claire replied. "It was all deleted, Mason. Oh god, we'll never get him back!"

"We will!" Mason assured. "He's my friend; I'm not going to let him suffer anymore!"

"He's more than just my friend..." Claire muttered tearfully, clenching her fists. "He... He means so much to me."

Mason put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him," he confirmed with confidence. "We'll save him no matter what."

"Miss Redfield!" came the voice of a fellow TerraSave worker. "We've received a video file from Wesker; we've been able to identify his current location by tracking down where the file was sent from!"

Claire instantly perked up. "Are you sure?" she asked the worker. "Show me!" She quickly followed the worker inside, followed by Mason.

 _..._

His chains were now broken. He lay on the floor in pain, though his eyes remained like wounds. He was gone. His mind was gone. The scar on his abdomen had now turned a strange shade of light green.

When Claire entered this room he was going to kill her, and there was nothing he could do to take control of the V-ii virus. One small part of his sane mind remained conscious, but it was weak. He was now nothing but a whimpering mess. He whimpered in a sad way almost like a dog.

All he could do was stare at the doors, waiting for them to open. He was going to kill Claire Redfield once and for all.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	16. Choice

**~Choice~**

Claire, having watched a brief video of Steve at the mercy of Albert Wesker and Elizabeth Bryant, marched out of the facility with a look of pure hatred on her face as Mason scurried after her.

"Claire, that guy could kill you easily," he warned. "Shouldn't we bring some other people with us?"

"There's no time," Claire snapped. "Steve needs me now; I can't let him down again!"

Mason watched her with worry before letting out a sigh. He was the only one helping her, and while he knew it was dangerous he had to do it for Steve. As someone who planned to work at TerraSave for many years he had to always step in when someone was in danger. He wanted to make a difference.

 _..._

"They received the video, Albert," Elizabeth purred happily. "The Redfield girl must be on her way."

"She's foolish enough to come alone," Wesker commented. "She went after her brother by herself recently; I doubt she has learned to organize a rescue party that quickly."

Elizabeth let out a chuckle. "She's so stupid!" she agreed. "I can't wait to watch Steve rip her apart!"

"We should make it easy for her to enter the facility," Wesker stated. "And, after Steve kills her, we can leave him in that room until his mutates. I can see that his body is finally giving in to the virus."

"My V-ii virus woke up the Veronica virus!" Elizabeth chirped. "It's all thanks to me; I've helped you create the perfect weapon!"

"Not yet," Wesker shot down coldly. "He still needs to prove himself to me in this form; you promised that even his human form had an... extension?"

Elizabeth grinned proudly. "That is correct," she replied. "And I know it will work. Just you wait and see! The moment Claire walks in, she'll be torn to pieces!"

Wesker just looked back at his monitors thoughtfully. Even if he fully trusted the woman's words he still refused to admit it. At the end of the day she was serving him; her intelligence was keeping her alive.

 _..._

"This is it," said Claire as she stepped out of the truck with Mason. The surrounding area was desolate and the drive had been long, but here they were. This was a secret training facility for the company Wesker currently worked for.

"Not very well guarded, eh?" Mason commented.

"It's most likely abandoned," Claire assumed as she walked forwards. "C'mon; Steve's waiting for us!" Her walk broke into a run, prompting Mason to do the same as he followed. Saving Steve was the top priority right now; they couldn't worry about why this place was so quiet.

In they entered. The facility was dark and incredibly large - in fact it seemed larger on the inside than it did on the outside. Neither Claire or Mason took time to appreciate the structure, however. They were both too busy focusing on their captive friend.

Mason held up a flashlight while Claire held the gun, ready to take on any possible threats. Normally in abandoned places she would find zombies or loose B. , but here was just empty. Nothing was showing itself.

They both opened doors and found empty rooms which hadn't been opened in years. They were searching for what felt like hours but may have been significantly less, until finally they both had to work together to push open a large and heavy iron door which led into a large, empty room...

Steve slowly lifted his head, struggling to maintain control over his own conscious mind. It really was going to happen again, wasn't it?

"Steve!" Claire cried out, seeing the boy laying down with the broken shackles still around his wrists. She was about to run, but Mason held her back. He wanted to make sure that this wasn't a trap, even though Claire seemed confident that nothing bad was going to happen.

"Claire... Mason..." Steve croaked almost painfully. He shakily lifted his arm as if reaching out to them, but suddenly, much to everyone's surprise, a vine-like tentacle broke from the ground and shot towards the duo. Mason dived to the ground, taking Claire with him in order to save her from being impaled.

"What?!" Claire cried out. "Steve!"

"Stay away!" Steve begged. As he sat himself up more of those almost-familiar tentacles appeared in the room, crashing in or coming through any posible entrances they could fit through. He tried to close his eyes and curl up into himself but nothing was going to stop them now.

"Shit!" Mason yelled, diving behind a large iron pillar for cover and once again pulling Claire with him. "He's lost control of himself, Claire! What are we supposed to do?!"

"I don't know!" Claire cried, trying to shout out to Steve. "Steve! You have to make it stop!"

"I can't!" Steve wailed. "I can't! It's... It's too strong! Claire!"

One of the tentacles swiped at the pillar, causing the duo to run behind another one in fear that something would collapse on top of them.

Steve slowly began to stand, the pain in his voice fading and transforming into primal anger as he emitted a human-like roar. His blood red eyes were on the pillar his friends were hiding behind, and by pointing both of his arms he was able to launch a number of his new weapons towards the two humans. Mason and Claire both dived out of the way, although one tentacle grabbed Mason's ankle and lifted him up.

"Wah!" Mason yelped as he tried to pull himself free. "Steve, stop! It's me! Mason! Your buddy with weird eyes!"

It didn't seem to ring any bells to him now. Steve wrapped another tentacle around one of Mason's wrists and began to stretch him as if trying to pull him apart. His hateful expression was locked onto his former classmate.

"Steve, this isn't you!" Claire tried to persuade him. "You're not the monster they're trying to turn you into!" The redhead was completely ignoring her and showed no signs of stopping, so Claire had no choice but to take out her gun and shoot the tentacles multiple times so that they dropped Mason. Luckily her plan worked, although Mason was very close to having a cracked rib after landing hard on his front. Still, he was able to get up and run back to Claire.

"I've got an idea," he told her. "You distract him; I'm gonna try and grab him or restrain him with something." Not giving Claire the chance to argue, Mason ran and made sure to keep himself out of Steve's view. Claire now had no choice but to run out and grab the attention of someone she was once prepared to call her lover. She opened fire on him but he shielded himself with his long tentacles, attempting to swipe her off her feet. As if she was jumping a skipping rope Claire hopped over the appendage and continued to fire.

Mason charged towards Steve and managed to tackle him from behind, covering his eyes with one hand and holding his wrists behind his back with the other. Steve thrashed and yelled aggressively, but even with obstructed vision and limited body movement he still had complete control over his tentacles. They once again attacked Mason just as the brown-haired boy was about to use Steve's scarf as a restraint, this time wrapping around him even more and holding him up against the wall. One tentacle wrapped around his neck and started to choke him.

Clawing at the tentacle and letting out a few coughs and splutters, Mason looked in Claire's direction painfully. "Claire...!" he choked. "You have to shoot him...!"

Claire's eyes widened as she stared at Steve. She didn't want to believe that he was gone; she wanted to believe that he was still in there, especially since he still maintained his human form. The young woman pointed her gun but her hands were shaking violently.

"Claire...!" Mason choked out again. "You... You have... to... ah...!" His face was red, maybe even a little purple. He was beginning to lose consciousness as his struggling grew weak.

Seeing the situation Mason was in, Claire knew that she had to act. The tears in her eyes began to flow down her cheeks as her teeth grinded together. Her hands shook even more and, looking away in pure fear, she let out a scream and pulled the trigger.

She hit him. Right in the chest. Right in the heart. The teen let out a long scream of pure pain as he fell to his knees, clutching his wound. The blood which flowed from it ignited upon making contact with oxygen - there was more fire than he had previously seen. The boy stared at the red patch now on his yellow shirt before he directed a pained but hateful scowl at Claire, and finally he flopped onto his front.

Claire stood still even when hearing Mason fall out of the tentacles' grasp, seeing them slither away for now. Mason rubbed his neck and coughed as he gasped desperately for air. Claire's eyes remained on Steve before she subconsciously dropped her gun, almost collapsing to the ground until she chose to sprint to Steve's side. She fell beside him and held him in her lap, seeing that his eyes were already closed.

"Steve!" she cried. "Steve, don't you dare! You have to wake up, okay?! You have to wake up! STEVE!"

 _..._

Leon arrived at the TerraSave facility at last and made his way inside, already having proved who he was to the security. He approached the lady behind the desk and leaned forwards.

"Claire Redfield asked for me," he informed. "Where can I find her?"

The woman looked up at him. "Miss Redfield left here a few hours ago," she told him. Leon grimaced a little in frustration.

"Damn it..." he muttered.

The female stared at him for a moment before realising who he was. "You're Leon Kennedy, correct?" she asked, seeing him nod his head.

"Yeah," he answered.

"She told us you were coming to assess our Veronica-virus patient, Steve Burnside," the woman recalled. Leon looked at her, perking up ever so slightly as she continued to speak. "Currently she has gone to retrieve him; he was taken earlier tonight by an unknown group, but his location has been traced and Claire should be there now. Since you're an official government agent I can trust you enough with the coordinates."

"That would be great," Leon responded with as much enthusiasm as he had inside him. The woman printed out the location and handed it to him.

"Here," she said. "Should I call her and let you know you're on your way?"

"I doubt that would be safe if she's in a suspicious environment," Leon said. "Thanks for the help." He briskly walked out of the facility and got into his car; he knew that he had to drive pretty fast if he wanted to reach Claire quick.

 _..._

His eyes slowly opened. His head hurt like hell. He really didn't feel too good.

Almost painfully Steve sat himself up, rubbing his eyes with tiredness. His vision was blurry, but it soon cleared up. What he saw surround him couldn't be real.

He was in his bedroom.

It was just as he had left it. His room was still a mess. School work was piled up either on his desk or in a corner. Posters still covered his walls.

It had been so long since he had been in here. Was it all just a dream?

 _Crash._

No. Not again. This couldn't be happening again. Steve jumped out of bed and swung his door open, sprinting down the stairs. He wasn't going to freeze up; whatever he had experienced before, dream or reality, had taught him that freezing in fear would only lead to death. If his parents were being held at gun point then he was going to save them.

"Oh, dear!" he heard his father exclaim. "You've broken another plate again!"

Steve slowed down as he reached the living room, coming to a halt. No windows had been broken. His parents weren't even in here. They were both in the kitchen, about to serve dinner.

"I'm sorry, this new soap makes dishes incredibly slippy!" he heard his mother apologize. He looked into the kitchen and saw that his mother was sweeping up the broken pieces as his father kept his eye on whatever was being cooked.

Steve quickly lifted his black shirt, seeing that the scar on his abdomen was gone. He stared in complete shock; that thing had terrified him and reminded him of his suffering ever since he awoke in Wesker's lab. Did that really never happen at all? Was Claire even real or was she just some woman created by his mind in his dream-state?

His father caught sight of him. "Ah!" he reacted with a smile. "You've had a good long nap; dinner's almost ready."

Steve remembered waking up to his parents being held at gun point. Dinner had never been prepared. Why were these memories so vivid if they never happened?

Slowly Steve stepped into the kitchen, his blue eyes wide with complete astonishment. He was completely tense and shaken up. Everything was back to normal.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, son," his father pointed out, looking concerned. "What's the matter? School work getting you down?"

He'd kill to do school work! That was nothing compared to anything he had just been through!

...Wait. Had he been through any of that? He still wasn't sure, but he felt like he should be sure.

Steve remained silent as he stared at his father. He remembered seeing him as a zombie, but here he was in his dark green polo shirt and jeans. He looked so normal. He was himself again.

Why did he feel so much anger towards this man? He didn't feel hateful, just... angry. He felt like his life had been ruined by him, but nothing had happened.

His mother walked over, still wearing her pink and white dress. "Sweetie, you look so pale..." she said in a concerned motherly tone, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead. "You're not getting sick, are you?"

"He looked pretty tired when he came in earlier," his father recalled. "You caught the flu or something, son?"

Steve slowly shook his head, still remaining completely shaken. Why were his nightmares so vivid? Did they reflect how frightened he was of his father's job? Working at Umbrella was pretty intense. Steve had always been worried about what his father did with the information.

Finally Steve took a very small step forwards. His human eyes locked onto his father's as he stood before him, shaking. "F-Father..." he whimpered.

"Hm?" his father reacted. "Are you okay, Steve?"

Steve just fell forwards and clutched his father's shirt, the larger man reacting quick enough to catch him.

"Steve...!" his mother gasped, her hand on his arm while he remained in his father's hold.

"Stop doing it, dad..." Steve wavered, burying his face into his father's chest. "Stop selling Umbrella's secrets... STOP IT!"

His mother quickly looked at the older male, her eyes wide as she met his gaze. They remained like that for a moment before his father sighed.

"Steve, we've talked about this," he reminded him. "Nothing bad's gonna happen, alright?"

"You're lying!" Steve screamed, though his voice was slightly muffled. "You're lying, dad! Why are you lying to me?!"

"Steve, what's gotten into you?!" his father snapped, taking him by the shoulders and firmly holding him while pushing him back to stare at his face. His tense expression immediately softened upon seeing his only child weeping as if he had lost everything in his life.

"Steve...?" his mother asked. Neither of his parents had seen him cry in such a long time; he wasn't easily upset. Before now he had only expressed his frustration through muttering moody comments while brushing past his father or walking up the stairs. Once or twice he may have raised his voice at the dinner table, but not once had he broken down like this. This must have been serious.

The older man pulled Steve close and held him protectively. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to just give up on earning money, but he could see just how much his son was becoming affected by all of this.

"...Alright," he spoke quietly. "Steve, listen. Listen. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and seeing just how afraid you are I think I've finally made my choice. I'm going to leave Umbrella."

What? Was that true? Was his father really saying this?

"Honey, are you sure...?" his mother asked.

"I'm sure," his father confirmed, stroking Steve's back. "Look at him. He's been getting so worked up about all this lately and now he's finally giving in to the stress. His school work will suffer; I'm gonna quit."

Steve slowly looked up at him, tears falling from his eyes. His father looked down at him, patting his back.

"You need a good rest," he said. "Go sit on the couch for a few minutes." He gently pushed his son over to the boy's mother, looking her in the eyes. "Make sure he's comfy, dear; I'm worried about him."

Steve's mother nodded as she led him into the living room while her husband watched the cooking food. The woman sat the redheaded teen down and handed him a blanket, wrapping it around him.

"Lie down, sweetheart," she cooed. "Watch some television for a few minutes. I'll get you a hot drink." She was about to go back into the kitchen, but Steve grabbed her arm. The blonde woman glanced down at him.

"...Don't go..." Steve pleaded quietly. His mother stared at him with confusion before chuckling softly, kneeling down beside him and stroking his head.

"I'm just going into the kitchen," she assured him. "I'll sit with you when I come back with some hot chocolate." She kissed him on the forehead and then stood back up, heading back into the kitchen. Steve watched her walk away as if it would be the last time he ever saw her; he could swear that he watched her die.

The phone began to ring. "I'll get it," he heard his father say as he strolled over and picked up the phone. The teen didn't listen to the conversation, instead shuffling slightly and reaching out for the television remote, but his father walked over to him. "...It's for you," he told his son, holding the phone down to him. Steve stared at his father before looking at the telephone in confusion. Hesitantly he took it and held it to his ear as his father walked away.

"...Hello?" he asked shakily.

"Steve!" a familiar female voice cried. "Steve, don't you dare! You have to wake up, okay? You have to wake up! STEVE!"

He held the phone further away from his ear, flinching at all the shouting. "...Claire...?" he asked slowly. That voice sounded just like it belonged to the girl he had been dreaming about.

All he could hear was her sobbing. What was she talking about? He was awake. And why did she sound so stressed?

It all made sense.

Now he finally understood what was going on.

He was dying.

If he chose to stay here with his family then he would die for a final time, but if he left his home then he would be able to fight to survive for a little longer in the real world.

Steve slowly pressed the red button on the phone and stood himself up, placing it back in its holder. His eyes were wide again. None of this was real.

He staggered into the kitchen, seeing his parents both doing their own thing. His mother had almost finished making that hot chocolate.

"...I have to go," he murmured, seeing them both freeze and look at him.

"Go?" his mother asked. "Go where? It's gonna be dark out there soon."

"I... Someone needs me..." Steve muttered.

"Who?" his father asked, sounding worried.

"...Claire..." Steve answered before finally allowing himself to sadly smile. "You guys... would like her."

"Claire?" his mother asked, a playful smile on her face. "Well, look at you! All grown up!"

Oh, they had no idea how "grown up" he had to be after that fateful night.

"Invite her over for dinner," his father insisted. Steve's sad smile remained on his face.

"I will," he answered. "I'll be back real soon; I promise."

Suddenly, he ran forwards and grabbed them both, pulling them into a surprising hug. He head them yelp in confusion.

"Steve...!" his mother chuckled.

"I love you both," the boy said tearfully, trying hard not to cry. "I'll always love you both."

"Steve, you're scaring us," his father joked. "Who are you and what have you done with my son?"

Steve pulled back from the hug and smiled sweetly. "I wish I knew," he answered. "W-Well... goodbye, mom. Goodbye, dad." His parents waved at him and said farewell as if nothing was wrong, but he knew the truth. He wiped his tearful eyes on the sleeve of his silver-blue bomber jacket and headed for the door. He took one last glance back towards the kitchen, seeing just how alive his parents looked before he took a hold of the handle and pulled the door open.

 _..._

His eyes slowly opened. Everything hurt like hell. He really didn't feel too good.

Slowly he managed to look up, seeing Claire crying as she held him in his arms. "...Claire...?" he asked her slowly, catching her attention when hearing her gasp.

"S-Steve?!" she reacted. The boy tried to smile weakly but his abdomen was hurting again, as was his chest. "Oh, Steve! Thank goodness!"

Mason crouched down beside him and lifted his yellow shirt. "Hold on, we've gotta make sure your wound isn't too serious..." he said. But his eyes were surprised when seeing that no bullet wound was there anymore. There was just a small green patch of skin which connected to the large green patch on his abdomen. Claire saw the same thing, a look of horror filling her eyes.

"Oh, god..." she responded to the sight.

"W...What is it...?" Steve asked weakly. Mason slowly lowered his shirt and smiled.

"It's nothing," he lied.

"Mason..." Steve whimpered.

"It's nothing to worry about right now," Claire extended. "What we need to worry about is getting out of here; we can worry about that later."

"What is it...?" Steve asked again. "Please, tell me..."

"Can you stand?" Claire asked. Steve sat himself up abruptly.

"Claire!" he tried to yell. A tentacle shot out through one of the holes, but Steve was quick to make it retreat. Claire and Mason watched this with horror before they both looked at him once again.

"We have to get you back to the facility," the young girl clarified. "It's dangerous for you to be here." She helped the redhead stand and looked towards the door. Getting in had been so easy; she hoped that getting out would be just as easy.

But, unfortunately, getting out was going to be a lot harder.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	17. Separated

**~Separated~**

Claire approached the door, letting Steve support himself by wrapping an arm over her shoulder. She, along with Mason, attempted to pull open the door, but it didn't move.

"What...?" Claire reacted.

"It's locked," Mason frowned. "Hey, Steve, think you could use one of your tentacle thingies?" Steve shook his head as he wore a fearful gaze.

"No," he answered. "I can't, I-I'll... I'll lose control again..."

"Maybe we could crawl through one of the holes," Claire suggested. "The ones caused by those tentacles."

"No way, Claire," Mason refused. "If Steve sneezes we'll have one of those things pierce right through us. It's not worth the risk."

"Well, how else are we gonna get outta here?" Claire asked him. "We're trapped in here!"

"The only way out is through one of the holes..." Steve confirmed. "I'll lead the way; while I can't control those tentacles in this state I know that they're not going to come near me. Just stay close and we should be okay..."

"Are you sure?" Mason asked. "Are you sure than one little sneeze won't end our lives?"

"I'm sure," Steve assured. "I'll crawl through first; stay behind me no matter what, and stay close."

The trio found a hole in the wall large enough to crawl through. Claire helped Steve get inside before following him, letting Mason follow her so long as he kept his head down.

 _..._

"They're heading straight for the Veronica-II plant!" Elizabeth announced. "They might be planning to terminate it!"

"I doubt Steve will let that happen," Wesker responded calmly. "It is part of him now; he will feel excruciating pain if that plant is severely damaged."

"The little fool might think he's a hero if he destroys that thing," Elizabeth muttered. "He'd do anything to protect his precious Claire, even if it costs him his life."

An idea sparked into Wesker's mind, making him smirk ever so slightly. "Yes, he would," he agreed before looking in Elizabeth's direction. "Go and separate them. Make sure that they are all far away from each other. There's nothing they can do to get out of this place alive; I want to see them die struggling."

Elizabeth tilted her head. "I thought you wanted the boy alive?" she recalled.

"If he survives my plan then he will be a worthy weapon," Wesker stated, "but if he dies then he will only be weak. With the V-ii virus coursing through his body he should be able to live through what is to come. His death would show that he was too weak to use any of his new abilities."

The blonde woman giggled. "Indeed, that is true," she nodded. "I won't fail you, Albert. I'll tear the trio apart. Then together you and I can watch them suffer!"

"Go," Wesker commanded. "Get it done quickly." Elizabeth nodded her head eagerly and left the room. Once she made these children lose each other she would return to Wesker and watch them desperately try to find each other before putting the rest of his plan to action.

 _..._

Steve suddenly stopped crawling, a look of caution in his eyes. His sudden halt made both Claire and Mason feel concerned.

"Steve, what's wrong?" the girl asked. Steve instantly hushed her, implying that he was listening out to something. Rumbling.

"Get back!" Steve tried to yell, but it was too late. The second the words came out the tight space the trio were in was shattered from underneath. Claire and Steve both fell screaming while Mason remained in the small tunnel, having just been avoided by whatever it was that damaged the escape route. The other two crash landed hard onto the ground below, Steve having made an attempt to break Claire's fall but ultimately failing. Luckily neither of them broke any bones. They were both still and silent for a moment, staring at each other in shock and confusion, before a tentacle almost identical to Steve's wrapped around Claire's ankle and suddenly pulled her away from her partner.

"Steve!" she screamed, trying to dig her nails into the ground in an attempt to fight back against whatever was pulling her. The redhead widened his eyes and crawled forwards before forcing himself to stand, trying to run after the girl as she was quickly taken away from him.

"Claire!" he called out. He hadn't been the one in control of that vine...

He stopped running when seeing that Claire had been pulled through a hole which was too high for him to reach. "Claire!" he yelled again, but he heard nothing in response. Not even a scream. The teen tried to climb up to the hole but it was impossible. He even considered using those tentacles, but his control over them wasn't strong enough unless he was under the full influence of the V-ii virus. Out of pure frustration he let out a yell, punching the wall a few times and even doing some damage. "CLAIRE!" he howled again before dropping down to his knees. He had practically fallen against the wall; if Claire was gone for good then there was no point in living anymore.

 _..._

Claire was thrown into the wall and the slim tentacle slithered away. The girl coughed and rubbed her head, sitting herself up with a wince. When the pain subsided slightly she staggered up to her feet quickly. "Steve?!" she called. "Steve!" There was no response. She looked around, seeing that the room she was in wasn't familiar to her. How was she supposed to find either of her two companions if she had no idea where she was?

She left through a fairly regular door and began to traverse some dark industrial corridors, still unsure of where she was. She had to just be cautious and keep searching until she found either Steve or Mason.

 _..._

Mason crawled back into the large arena-like room since the original path he was taking had been obstructed. He looked for another hole and walked towards it, but he stopped upon hearing the large metal doors creaking open. The eyes belonging to the boy narrowed warily as he watched someone enter.

He didn't recognize her but he knew she wasn't someone on his side, so he put up his fists. The woman merely giggled as she approached him, not appearing threatened at all.

"You almost seem as feisty as Steve," she commented. "Only you haven't been exposed to the same situations as him."

"Who are you?" Mason interrogated. "And what do you want?"

"Oh, that's right! You don't know me," the scientist chuckled. "I am Elizabeth Bryant. You must have seen me in that little video you and Claire received."

"I did," Mason growled, taking a step back. "Now answer the second question, lady."

"Oh, so hostile!" Elizabeth gasped. "Must you youths be so aggressive? Especially to a poor, defenseless woman?"

"Where are the others?!" Mason snapped. "Where's Steve?! Where's Claire?!"

"Your friends are alright," Elizabeth assured. "For now, at least." Mason immediately glowered and lunged forwards, grabbing onto her throat. However, the woman's already-glowing pink eyes flared dangerously. Two of her own vines broke out from the ground and pulled Mason away, throwing him against the wall before retreating. Elizabeth stepped over to him, shaking her head with disappointment.

"Tut, tut, tut," she said, pouting. "You should really think before you act, boy." Mason, still on the ground, painfully but angrily glared up at her.

"Tell me where the others are!" he demanded. "If you hurt them, I'll kill you!"

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and smiled. "Try," she mocked. "For all you know, they might try to kill you."

"You...!" Mason snarled, trying to run after the woman as she began to walk away. Another vine whipped him, causing him to fall again. He knew exactly what she was implying; there was no way that he'd let her turn his friends against him.

 _..._

Steve was running as fast as he could, his speed at times making him appear as a blur. He kicked open doors and checked any room he passed by, not wanting to miss Claire or Mason at any point. Right now either of them could be being tortured; he couldn't let what happened to him happen to them as well.

"Claire!" he yelled loudly as he searched. "Mason!"

"They'll never hear you," came the all-too-familiar voice belonging to Wesker. Steve slowly turned his head to glance back at the man, his eyes glazing with hatred. He could see Wesker wearing that smirk of his as he stepped closer.

"I'll find them," the redhead assured. "It won't take me long."

"You don't know your way around this place," Wesker reminded him as he watched the boy turn fully around. The man stopped walking, now standing with his eyes locked onto the teen. Steve clenched his fists, a challenging glimmer in his own eyes.

"It doesn't matter," he spat. "I'll find them." Wesker suddenly zipped forwards and took a handful of the boy's hair, pulling him up so that he was closer and at eye-level with the older male. Steve grimaced but managed to turn his pained expression into a glare.

"You won't find them," Wesker assured. "They're already dead."

Steve's angered glare changed into a look of horror, his eyes going wide. Wesker almost smirked at the sight, shoving him back. Steve merely stood there and began to tremble.

"No..." he wavered. "No, that... that can't be true..."

"They're dead, Steve," Wesker pushed. "Your determination to protect them is what is keeping you human. You will not allow yourself to succumb to the virus because you want to keep your precious Claire Redfield safe. You want to make sure you other friend remains unharmed so that he doesn't suffer like you did. Now that they're gone you have nothing to live for. You have no reason to resist it any longer; you're dead to the world and the only ones you love are dead, too."

Steve stood there, slowly lowering his head as he shook. This had to be a lie. This was just a lie to make him transform.

"I killed them, Steve," Wesker continued. "Your friend died quickly; all I had to do was snap his neck. But Miss Redfield's death wasn't as swift, unfortunately for her. She died screaming. In fact I believe she may have even called for you as I gauged out her eyes."

The teen suddenly rushed at him, using all of his strength to tackle the man to the ground and pin him. He didn't even bother yelling any insults; he just started to rapidly punch the man's face, even knocking off his shades. The moment the shades came off Wesker snarled and his eyes glowed; he threw the boy from him and got up to his feet before letting out a cold laughter.

"That's correct, Steve!" he mocked. "I killed your beloved Claire Redfield! Everything you love has been taken away from you!"

Steve didn't bother to respond to his words, instead just running at the man and grabbing both of his hands. The two started to wrestle with one another, but Wesker was wearing a sadistic grin. He wanted Steve to let this side of him out.

Despite Steve using all of his strength, Wesker was still strong enough to win the wrestle and begin squeezing the boy's hands hard enough to break them. Steve growled but his mind wasn't on the pain; his mind was on killing this man. Ripping him apart. Making him suffer for everything he had done. But even his determination wasn't enough to help him overcome Wesker's strength; he was simply at his mercy.

Wesker loomed over the boy as he almost cracked the bones in his hands. "There's nothing left for you in this world, Steve," he tormented. "Why are you even trying to resist the burning fire within your blood? You'll die just like everyone else you loved! You won't be remembered by anybody now that they're all gone!"

Steve suddenly yanked Wesker's arms as hard as he could, slamming his own head against the older male's to very briefly daze him despite causing himself some pain. His hands were released from Wesker's vice grip, and Steve wasted no time in kicking the man to the ground. The teenager then grabbed the back of Wesker's head and forced him up to his feet.

"This is for mom!" he snapped, slamming Wesker's head as hard as he could against the wall. "This is for dad!" He did it again, seeing Wesker's glasses drop from his face and fall to the floor. "This is for Doctor Reynolds!" He did it a third time. "This is for Mason!" He threw Wesker across the corridor, running after him and watching him hit the wall and even leave a slight dent. As Wesker dropped to the floor Steve jumped up, aiming to land on the blond-haired man. "And this is for CLAIRE!" He used his own fingernails to rip at the flesh on his arms, fiery blood spurting from the wounds as his two limbs ignited. He landed on Wesker and grabbed him by the ears, almost feeling pure satisfaction when hearing the man yell in pain. His flaming blood scalded Wesker's ears and leaked down his face, burning him some more. Steve's eyes once again flooded with crimson as his veins began to swell all over his body, including in his head and neck. A rumbling was both heard and felt, the sound growing louder and louder until the tentacles belonging to the Veronica-II plant crashed into the area and went straight towards Wesker. The redhead assumed that he had won this battle now; Wesker had nothing to defend himself with. But, to Steve's surprise, the man grinned and his eyes glowed.

 _..._

Claire managed to narrowly avoid being pierced by a vine which had shot by her. She recognized them to be the ones used by Steve. Something wasn't right, so she chose to run in the same direction as the extra appendage. It was her best chance at finding Steve and, judging by the sight of the tentacle, saving him from himself.

 _..._

Mason had to dive to the floor in order to avoid Steve's tentacle. At first he thought that it was Elizabeth trying to attack him again, but even he knew that Elizabeth's tendrils were a lot skinnier and looked as if they belonged to a completely different plant.

The boy stood himself back up, dusting himself off. "Huh..." he reacted, taking time to process what he just witnessed. "Steve... Steve!" After realising that Steve could be in danger - either at the hands of a foe or at his own hands - Mason sprinted after the large vine. He chose not to follow completely, however, as some of the holes caused by the tentacle had no space for him to also fit through, so instead he had to find other ways to go.

 _..._

Steve couldn't believe it, even in his growing state of madness. Even after everything he had just done to weaken Wesker the man beneath him was still stronger. The older man had caught two of Steve's tentacles and had started to pull on them. The boy tried to pull back, but the phantom stinging sensation told him that Wesker was winning. Wesker was succeeding in ripping apart two of his vines.

The boy let out a howl when Wesker pulled the two appendages from the original plant. It felt as if something really had been ripped off out of him. Now that he was weak he was now the perfect target; Wesker punched the teen in the face and sent him flying into the wall, using this time to stand himself up.

"It's such a pity that you're holding back as much as you can," the man commented almost in a sad tone of voice, walking towards the fallen teen. "You have so much potential, Steve, yet here you are again: curled up on the ground at my mercy."

The man kneeled down beside Steve, grabbing his hair and forcing him to face him. "I should kill you right now," he said, "but that won't be interesting. I'm sure you can still impress me if you try." He arose back to his full height. "Farewell," he said, turning around and beginning to walk away. Steve pushed himself to sit up, scowling hatefully as he locked his eyes onto the man. He growled before letting out a strained yell of weak rage, forcing himself to stand as he ran towards Wesker. However, a slim tendril was swift to whip into the corridor and strike him. It was quick and strong enough to cut his flesh with each strike, leaving some stinging cuts along his face. The final cut was made across his abdomen, making him fall to his knees. The vine slid away as Steve clutched his stomach, snarling in pain. The wounds were healing but the flesh which patched him was green and scaly. He cringed and curled up when he felt his abdomen healing, even huffing out heavy breaths as a coping mechanism.

Anger fueled him for a while longer, but as the pain subsided so did his feelings of rage. He was starting to be overwhelmed by sadness. Sorrow. Grief. If what Wesker said was true, that both Claire and Mason were dead, then he had failed two more loved ones in his life. He punched his fists into the ground and yelled again before he started to quietly let some tears free from their imprisonment.

His head was hurting. He could feel his mind pushing him to give in to his new power, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want to, even though he had nothing left. He couldn't give Wesker what he wanted.

But his mind was losing...

Until he heard a female scream.

It sounded like Claire.

His mind must have been playing tricks on him...

But he couldn't just ignore the sound of Claire in danger even if it was just his grieving imagination.

 _..._

Claire didn't have many bullets left in her handgun now. She was fending off a pack of cerberuses. One had already bitten her ankle, but she was still fighting with all her strength. There was no way she was going to die here.

"Give up, Claire Redfield," Wesker pushed. "There is no point in saving your beloved Steve now."

"You crazy son of a bitch...!" Claire rasped painfully, as one cerberus tried to maul her arm. Luckily she was able to kick it back. The brunette attempted to fire at Wesker with a number of her remaining bullets, but his speed allowed him to dodge them all. He was suddenly behind her, letting out a quiet laugh.

"I'll be sure to send Chris what remains of your corpse when they are done," he said, referring to the cerberuses. Claire heard him zip away.

"Hey!" she yelled, barging down one dog as it tried to jump at her. "You'll pay for this!"

She couldn't die now. She had to get to Steve and find Mason. They had to get out of here. But she must've now had one bullet left, maybe two if she had counted wrong...

Someone suddenly seemed to appeared before her, tackling one of the dogs and fighting with it as if he were one of them. He bit at the cerberus' throat and continued to violently fight with it until it died, then moving on to finish off the others. It didn't take him very long.

Even with his back turned Claire was still able to recognize him. "S-Steve?!" she reacted.

That was her voice. He definitely heard her. He turned his head, staring back at her with his infected gaze, which was now worse than ever. Was this just his mind playing tricks on him now that the V-ii virus was beginning to dominate him?

Claire took a few steps towards him, seeing him back away. "Oh god, Steve...!" the woman gasped, seeing that he had patches of scaly skin and bulbous veins, along with those blood red eyes. She was almost afraid of him; was he still himself or was she too late to save him now?

His eyes saddened slightly, a mildly human look returning to them. "Claire...?" he asked slowly. Tears were in his eyes, although Claire couldn't understand why.

"What... What happened to you...?" she questioned, finding the courage to step closer.

"You're not real," Steve gulped, shaking his head. "Y-You can't be... Wesker said that he..." Claire stopped walking and cocked her head to the side.

"He said what, Steve?" she interrogated gently, appearing concerned. "Steve, what did Wesker tell you? He's a liar; he'd say anything to weaken you."

Again Steve gulped, trying to hold back his tears. "He said... he killed you..." he whimpered, shaking a little. "He said that... you screamed for me... as you... d-d... died..."

"Oh, Steve!" Claire gasped in complete horror, rushing over to him. He backed off again and even flinched as she wrapped her arms around him. "Steve, I-I'm alright! H-He didn't kill me, see?! I'm real...!"

He felt her cheek. She was warm. She was soft. She was definitely real; nobody could recreate her this perfectly.

"Claire..." he whined. "Oh, Claire..."

"Shh..." Claire hushed. "Come on. We have to find Mason and get you out of here before something even worse happens. Let's stay close at all times." Steve nodded his head. He couldn't risk losing her in this place again, or else he might lose her for real. Now all they had to do was find Mason; Wesker must have been lying about him, too.

 _..._

Mason had pretty much gotten himself lost. He could swear that he had visited some areas twice. At some point Steve's tentacles had retracted, making them much harder to follow. It looked as if he had to go back to square one with searching for the other two.

But then he heard them. They were talking to one another. Mason ran and peered through one of the holes in the wall. On the floor below they were both their, obviously having just reunited. Mason smiled with relief and was about to call out to them, but a sudden sensation of pain struck the back of his head. His head throbbed and his vision went black almost instantly.

Wesker was the one to catch him as he fell backwards into his grasp. The man, no longer in shades, dragged the unconscious boy away. Claire and Steve hadn't seen anything at all.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	18. Mason

**~Mason~**

Claire walked along with Steve, their arms linked together so that they didn't lose each other.

"I hope he's okay..." Claire muttered to herself.

"He's... a tough guy," Steve admitted.

"I know," Claire agreed, "but he's unarmed and... well, you've already seen what things are lurking in this place."

"We'll find him," Steve assured. "If he's in any danger we'll hear him scream." Just as he finished his sentence he felt a twinge in his abdomen, causing him to stop walking and lean over, groaning from the pain.

"Steve?" Claire reacted, stopping to stare at him with concern. "Steve, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Steve replied, slowly standing normally. "Let's keep going; Mason may be tough but he can't survive against monsters while unarmed for too long."

The duo continued with their walk, but after a few minutes Steve came to a halt and shielded Claire.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"I can hear something," Steve announced quietly.

Heavy footsteps were coming from ahead. Steve's eyes narrowed as he prepared himself to fight while Claire looked both worried yet determined to defeat whatever was ahead of them.

Just as it turned a corner Steve ran forwards and yelled, ready to attack, only to find himself being grabbed by the shirt and flipped over onto his back - military style.

Leon drew out his pistol and aimed it down at Steve's forehead, ready to pull the trigger. Steve stared up at him in pure shock and confusion. He had never seen this man before.

"Leon?!" Claire reacted. The man turned his head to look over at her.

"Claire," he responded in his calm tone, moving his gun so that it was no longer pointing at Steve. He watched the redhead get back up on his feet, realising now who he was. "You," he addressed. "You must be Steve Burnside."

Steve stared at him with his barely-human eyes, appearing tense. "And you're... Leon," he replied. "...Wait, Claire, is this the same Leon you sent that email to back on Rockfort Island?"

"Yeah," Claire smiled.

While it was a relief to see another friendly face, Steve was still somewhat suspicious. "How did you know where to find us?" he asked Leon.

"I wanted to meet up with Claire at the TerraSave building," Leon explained, "but I was told she'd gone to save you. So I came to help."

"Why would you come to visit?" Steve interrogated, huffing sarcastically. "What, is it her birthday or something? Were you planning to surprise her for something?"

Leon looked at Claire, meeting her worried gaze before looking back at Steve. "No, she knew I was coming," he confessed. Steve frowned slightly and looked at Claire; he could tell by the way they looked at each other that they were hiding something from him.

"It doesn't hurt to tell me we're getting visitors every now and then..." the boy mumbled. "What're you hiding?"

Claire could only stare at Steve before letting out a shaky sigh and stepping forward slightly. "Steve, now's not the time to talk about this," she told him. "We have to find Mason first and get outta here; I'll explain everything then."

That made things sound deadly serious. Steve glared at her and then at Leon before shaking his head. "Sometimes I can't believe you," he growled, turning on his heel and marching off.

"Wait, Steve...!" Claire called out, going after him while Leon followed her.

"There's no time to wait, Claire, I'm gonna find Mason and get outta here!" Steve shot back.

"Don't make him mad," Leon quietly said, walking by Claire's side. "He looks pretty rough; I'm not sure if worrying him here is a good idea."

"I wasn't trying to bother him..." Claire sighed. "Damn it, he's good at picking up on strange behaviour..."

"Hmph," Leon responded, watching Steve walk ahead and kick a door open. He kept a mental note of Steve's appearance; he looked like someone who was slowly mutating into something dangerous. Not even make-up could cover some of his deformities.

Steve had entered a room not too different to the one he had been left in, only there were platforms higher up with flimsy metal stairs leading up to them. This room looked like it was designed for combat with B.O.W.s.

Leon glanced around the room warily, holding his pistol with both hands. Claire also looked around; how she wished she still had enough ammo in her own gun in case anything jumped out at them.

Footsteps were heard on one of the platforms above along with a crazed feminine laughter. The trio all looked up at Elizabeth Bryant with a defensive expression. Leon immediately aimed his gun at her.

"It's that crazy bitch again," Steve cursed angrily.

The pink-eyed woman stared down at the three with a smirk on her face, raising her arms proudly. "Do you like it in here?" she asked them in a booming voice which bounced off the walls. "There are plenty of circular rooms like this here. This whole training facility was built for military purposes, you know."

"Who are you?!" Leon interrogated.

Elizabeth simply giggled. "Oh, so you're the new player in this little game!" she chirped. "Now this should be interesting."

"Where's Mason?!" Steve snapped angrily, his eyes almost glazing with blood vessels again.

"Mason?" Elizabeth responded, almost sounding confused. "Why would you need him? You have a replacement right there. Besides, I think it's fair to have two teams of three."

Two teams of three? So far it seemed like three against two since nobody else worked with Elizabeth and Wesker. And it could become four against two if Mason was found... right?

"Answer my question or I'll kill you!" Steve roared viciously.

"Oh, so feisty!" Elizabeth gasped before giggling again. "It's such a shame that your body is so uncooperative with the V-ii virus, Steve. It really is."

"V-ii virus?" Leon muttered to himself.

"The perfected t-Veronica virus!" Elizabeth announced with pride. "I designed it especially for Steve so that it could motivate the virus already coursing through him, but he just keeps refusing to transform. It's quite a unique ability of his, really."

"Where's Mason?!" Steve demanded again. His eyes had changed, indicating that he may resort to using his tentacles again.

"Oh, please, you sound like you want to marry the boy!" Elizabeth mocked. "There's no need for concern, he's very much alive. Albert, darling, show Steve that I'm telling the truth, will you?"

Onto the platform stepped Wesker, and with him he dragged a rather worried-looking Mason. He was holding him with one arm around his front and one hand clutching his light brown hair firmly. Mason wriggled a little in his grasp, his eyes turning somewhat sad when he saw Steve and Claire.

"Guys...!" he called out to them.

"See? He's perfectly fine," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Mason!" Steve called, running forwards slightly as he stared up at his childhood friend with a helpless gaze.

"Let him go!" Claire yelled. Leon said nothing, keeping his gun aimed up at Elizabeth. He knew that she was planning something, along with Wesker.

Elizabeth eyed Mason curiously, humming to herself in a thoughtful manner. "Hm, he's a young and healthy individual, isn't he?" she asked rhetorically, grinning down at Steve. "Something tell's me his body will be more cooperative than yours!"

Steve's eyes widened as he ran forwards some more, looking for the stairs which led to their platform. "Don't you dare!" he hollered. "If you lay a finger on him..." He couldn't think of a perfect threat, instead focusing on reaching the trio. He ran towards the stairs as fast as he could, believing that he could reach Mason in time, but one of those thin tendrils appeared once again and swiftly wrapped around his ankle, throwing him back. The boy landed on his side at Claire's feet, his reddening eyes staring in horror up at his former classmate.

"You should stop worrying so much, Steve!" Elizabeth laughed. "I'm not going to lay a finger on him." A dark smile was on her face suddenly as she held up a shot of the same virus she had previously injected Steve with.

"NO!" Steve practically pleaded as he threw himself up to his feet. But he wasn't quick enough to do anything. He watched as Mason stared at the needle in fear, freezing instead of trying to pull away. The mildly-tanned boy grunted and bit down on his tongue when the sharp and cold pain entered his neck. For a moment his eyes shut tight, but then they widened as he stared up towards the high ceiling.

"Mason, no!" Claire cried out, although Leon remained calm. His gun was now on Mason; there was no way to cure him so shooting him before he transformed was the best choice.

Wesker had a small smirk on his face. He lifted the teen and threw him over the barrier, watching him fall not far from the other three. "This is why our teams are even," he calmly said before looking at Elizabeth. "Let's observe from a safer distance; the footage of this fight should result in a good gift to send Chris Redfield." The blond man turned and walked away through a door. Elizabeth waved sarcastically down at the trio, meeting Steve's rage-filled gaze before skipping out after Wesker. Once the pair had left every single exit within the room was blocked off with iron shutters.

Steve quickly ran over to Mason and held him, seeing him clutching the side of his neck. "Mason! Mason..." The redhead was trying to remain calm so that he could ease his friend. "Come on, now, don't panic... You've got this, alright...? You can fight it...!"

"Move aside, Steve," Leon commanded almost coldly, stepping forwards with caution as he watched Mason writhing around in pain. Steve stared at Leon with horrified eyes, shielding the other teen.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I won't let you kill him!"

"There's no cure for the virus!" Leon reminded him. "And even if it's possible to make one there's no time! He's moments away from turning into something which could kill us all!"

Steve angrily stood up and marched over to Leon, his face mere inches away from the other male's. "You don't know how it feels to be in his situation," he snarled.

"I heard that you were killed," Leon countered, seeing Steve tense up with a hurt expression on his face.

"Guys!" Claire shouted to them, her blue eyes still locked onto Mason. The two males turned to look at him. Mason was screaming as he wriggled around, clawing at his neck and face and chest. He was starting to cough and splutter. Leon pointed his gun at him once again.

"Steve...!" Mason choked out. "Steve, please...! I-I can't...!"

His back arched suddenly and a horrific cracking sound was heard as if his bones were breaking and moving. He howled in agony as his legs began to stretch and curve. His feet grew larger, snapping out of the shoes he had been wearing. They became like large talons. As for his arms, they also grew and curved, although they became incredibly thin. His hands enlarged and his fingers grew longer, becoming like claws. A new layer of skin grew on both arms, making them appear like the wings of a bat. Mason's back arched the other way now so that he was hunched over, his spine becoming more jagged and external and his tailbone growing out into a long whip-like tail. His hair hardened and darkened along with the rest of his greying body which had scales and veiny growths hear and there, and finally his eyes went from white to black while his irises became like the eyes of a viper. His yellow eye turned pink while his blue eye turned golden. Fangs had sprouted from his mouth and his ears grew longer.

Leon was about to fire, but Steve pushed his arm away. He watched Mason curl up and whimper quietly to himself as if he was in pain. Cautiously Steve approached him, almost getting too close.

"Mason...?" he asked slowly and softly. The mutated boy slowly lifted his head to face him, a sad look in his eyes. For a moment Steve was convinced that he had kept his human mind, but he immediately thought otherwise when Mason let out a deafening screech.

"Get back!" Leon ordered as he fired at Mason multiple times. Mason screeched again as Steve fell backwards in fear. The new B.O.W. flapped its large wings and lifted itself from the ground, levitating in the air as it locked its eyes onto Leon. It's mouth opened abnormally wide as it swooped down towards him.

"Leon, look out!" Claire yelled, tackling Leon so that he fell to the ground and avoided becoming the new Mason's dinner. The beast screeched in frustration, landing on one of the higher platforms and perching almost like a vulture. It swooped down once again, this time aiming to grab someone with its talon-like feet. Steve was the one it managed to snatch.

"Steve!" Claire cried out in horror. Steve growled loudly when he felt the clawed talons digging into his ribs as Mason lifted him higher into the air.

"Mason, it's me!" he shouted, trying to remind the monster of who he once was. "It's me, Steve! Remember?! Y-You have funny eyes! Your eyes are stupid! Come on, buddy!"

The monster only shrieked, digging its talons further into Steve's body. Steve wailed in agony and even coughed up some blood.

"We have to do something!" Claire cried.

"Yeah," Leon agreed, looking around the room. "We have to kill your friend."

Claire looked up at Mason, distraught, as Leon ran around in an attempt to find something. This had already happened to her once, and here she was again.

The bat-like B.O.W. suddenly let go of Steve, attempting to use gravity to kill him. Steve yelled out, his eyes on Mason as he fell. He wanted to fight him but he just couldn't. This was his friend.

"Steve!" Claire called out, running forwards to try and catch him. However, before Steve landed, Mason's monster-self swooped down and whipped Steve with its tail, causing him to crash into a wall and flop to the ground. It used its talons to grab Claire by the arms and lifted her from the ground.

"Claire!" Leon hollered, immediately putting a halt to his search as he opened fire with his handgun, trying to make the creature drop his ally. It merely snarled with irritation, its skin being too thick and strong for the bullets to penetrate. Claire wriggled and thrashed, trying to free herself, but she immediately stopped when seeing how high she was now. A fall from her current height could kill her.

"Damn it...!" Leon cursed through grit teeth, looking around the room again. He decided to climb some stairs to stand on one of the higher platforms, attempting to reach the B.O.W.s' height.

Steve shook his head, rubbing his temple as he groaned. His hearing and his vision returned to normal, and when seeing the situation he gasped loudly. "Claire!" he cried, seeing her in Mason's talons. Immediately he threw himself to his feet and ran back into the centre of the circular room, his inhuman eyes staring up at the beast in the air. It was clear that the boy was wounded, but he was the only one seemingly unaware of his injuries. The cuts from Mason's talons began to heal with that same green flesh. Steve hissed slightly and held his abdomen after feeling a brief throbbing sensation; he knew that something bad was happening to him, but he didn't have the time to worry about himself. Claire was in danger.

The boy held out his arms to the side, glaring up at the grey-skinned monster. "Mason!" he called up to him. "Let her go!" His words were all but foreign to his former friend. He looked around, his eyes locking onto Leon as he watched him going up platform by platform. He looked around the room for something, but like Leon he had found nothing. He let out a grunt of frustration; he had no weapons or projectiles to target Mason with.

...Except he _did_ have a weapon.

His eyes went completely red as he let out a yell, raising his hands. About eight of his tentacles burst out of the ground and targeted the hovering bat. A few of them almost caught Claire as they struck Mason. The creature let out a bloodcurdling shriek as the flesh of its wings was torn, causing it to fall now that it had lost the ability to fly. Claire was heard screaming as she fell from its talons, but Leon managed to jump from his platform and grab her. The bat-creature attempted to catch them both with its clawed feet, but it only just missed because of how Leon stopped his own descent. He had dug his combat knife into one of Steve's tentacles, grasping onto it with one hand while holding Claire with the other. Steve winced when feeling Leon's knife enter the appendage but it wasn't too painful for him; he was more focused on running to avoid being crushed by Mason. He ran to the wall and watched as the large monster crashed into the ground. The redhead used this as an opportunity to restrain the creature with seven of his vines, the eight one being slowly lowered so that Leon and Claire could reach the ground safely.

The duo ran over to Steve, both looking worn out from their shared near-death experience. Leon could see Steve's level of focus so turned his head to Claire, pointing at the boy with his thumb as he caught his breath.

"Is he controlling those tentacles?" he asked. Claire nodded her head as she also panted heavily from exhaustion.

"Yeah," she replied breathlessly. The pair then turned to look at Mason as he thrashed against Steve's vines, letting out screeches of rage. Steve looked as if he was struggling to keep the beast down, growling when Mason bit into one of the tentacles. It was evident that the B.O.W. still had a lot of strength left; it came close to ripping Steve's tentacles apart. No longer maintaining the strength to hold Mason down, Steve lost control of his tendrils and fell to his knees. The long limbs slithered away from where they had entered from, leaving Mason to roam free once again.

"It's not over yet," Leon announced, watching as the B.O.W. crawled along the walls using its large clawed hands and talons. "Let's finish this."

"How?" Claire questioned tiredly. "We can't do anything! A-And even if we could, that's a friend of ours! We... We can't just kill him, Leon!"

"Your friend is gone!" Leon snapped, grasping her by the shoulders firmly. He pointed up at the winged beast as it clambered along the walls like a starved spider. "That thing is not you friend, Claire! That is a Bio Organic Weapon that wants nothing but blood! Your friend is dead!"

"I'm not killing him!" Claire insisted, tears in her eyes. Leon only stared at her, seeing that she was determined to not change her mind. Mason was heard screeching, drawing the attention of them both. Leon watched the creature for a moment before glancing at the barred door; it had been broken.

"Looks like Steve managed to break the bars while his tentacles were faliling about," the man pointed out. "Mason can't fit through there. Let's make an escape and come back for him later; we need to do something about Wesker and that crazy woman, then after that we might be able to find some kind of antidote."

Claire stared at Mason, then at Leon. She nodded her head. "Right," she agreed, knowing that this was the best thing to do.

Leon had to watch Mason for a moment so that he could decide on a good time to run. "Go!" he commanded when that time came. He sprinted beside Claire as Steve followed, but the redhead was exhausted and was succumbing to his injuries. He collapsed onto his front.

"Steve!" Claire screamed. They were so close to the door; all she had to do was drag him once she ran to him. But the large B.O.W. seized the opportunity to jump back down to the ground. It screeched and scurried towards Steve, opening its mouth wide and revealing its sharp fangs. Steve stared in horror as he shuffled back, watching as Mason's face came towards him with a look of savage hatred. He was going to be eaten by his own childhood friend.

Before Claire could reach him to get him out of the way, Steve's mind suddenly went blank. It had been overtaken by the V-ii virus again, the veins in his eyes once again cracking into view. He felt a rumble and then heard a grotesque fleshy sound as the bat-like B.O.W. let out an agonized scream.

Steve's mind returned to normal. The sight before him was enough to stop his heart and everything else which made him function. Mere inches in front of him was the B.O.W., lying down on its front with eight vines having pierced its body. Mason's barely-altered face was staring at him as if it was feeling shocked or betrayed. Steve's eyes were completely wide. The air was silent. Even Leon and Claire had frozen.

The vines slowly wiggled out of the monster's body, returning to the ground. Blood leaked from the creature as it began to crack and morph horribly once again, only this time it was shrinking. It was returning to a more humanoid form, the grey skin even becoming slightly tanned again but still remaining somewhat sickly. The eyes were glazed and the sclera was white once again, although the irises had not reverted to their original form.

Mason used his arms, which still had the torn flesh of his wings dangling from them, to drag himself across the ground painfully. A wide trail of blood followed him as he grunted and gasped desperately, some blood being coughed up out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Seeing this, Steve managed to swiftly run to him and grab him, laying him in his lap. He pressed his hands on two of the large wounds, but six holes of blood still remained exposed. Mason's glazed eyes only just managed to focus on Steve as he breathed hoarsely.

"Hang in there, Mason..." Steve wavered. "Y-You're gonna be alright, you're back to normal now..."

"Can't... I can't..." Mason coughed. "Everything... h-hurts..."

"Don't talk," Steve commanded, tears now visible in his eyes. "You've gotta save your strength, okay? Leon will take you back to the TerraSave facility and find help for you. Right, Leon?" The teen looked back at Leon, but saw that the man wore an expression of sorrow. Leon closed his eyes and turned his head away - a gesture which made Steve's heart sink.

Steve looked back at Mason, now cradling him with his blood-covered hands. "Just hold on," he cooed. "Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me."

Mason grabbed one of Steve's hands, using the other to grip his yellow shirt. His body was shaking from both the pain and the cold. He was grunting and trying to cry at the same time. "Steve...!" he wept.

Claire ran over, dropping to her knees as she, like Steve had previously just done, attempted to put pressure on Mason's wounds to stop the bleeding. "We're gonna help you, Mason," she assured. "Just hold on!"

Mason tried to yell but barely had any strength yet, his eyes completely glazed as they no longer focused on anything. "Mom..." he sobbed. "Mom!"

Steve and Claire could only look at each other with horror, then staring down at their companion as he hyperventilated and desperately cluthed onto life. His grip on Steve strengthened as he became more and more panicked.

"Mom!" he called out again. "Help me!"

And then he stopped.

He had taken in a shaky breath, his eyes wide. His mouth hung open slightly. He was completely frozen. For a moment he was like a statue, but slowly his hands lost their grip and let go of Steve. He flopped back, now limp in Steve's arms.

Claire's lip trembled as she tried to contain her shocked cries. She hesitantly reached forward and held Mason's wrist, checking for a pulse. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping onto the floor as her face started to turn red. She slowly looked at Steve but his head was still lowered. He already knew what had happened.

There was no reaction from Steve for a moment, but he suddenly threw his head back and let out the loudest scream he was capable of. It was so loud that it made his throat sore. The sudden wail had made Claire jump, her tears streaming even more. She allowed herself to softly cry when seeing Steve break down. The boy cradled the body of his friend, bawling his eyes out. He rocked him and held him close to his chest. Claire couldn't bear to see Steve like this, throwing her arms around him and crying into his shoulder. She, too, cradled Mason's body, but Steve almost seemed possessive. This was someone he had known since he was a young child. This was someone he had grown up with. This was someone who was like his brother, and now he was dead.

The list just kept getting longer. First his mother, then his father, then Doctor Reynolds and now Mason Tremblay. His existence was a curse. His existence made others suffer. Things would have been better if he had just stayed dead.

But he wasn't someone to give in so easily. Having seen so much death he had only grown more tolerant and strong. He slowly lifted his head again, fire practically burning in his eyes.

"I'll kill her," he snarled through his dying cries. "I'll kill that hag!"

"S-Steve..." Claire whimpered, her puffed-up eyes staring into his. Steve's cold expression destroyed any sadness he was currently feeling, only leaving room for anger and hatred. He lay Mason on the ground and stood himself up, turning and sprinting out of the room.

He only had one goal in mind now: avenge Mason Tremblay.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	19. Revenge

**~Revenge~**

Elizabeth pouted as she stood behind Wesker's seat, observing the screens within the small security room. "What a shame," she sighed with emphasis. "I was hoping he would last longer; I was rather pleased with how that beast turned out. He would have been extremely powerful and useful in our future plans."

"Mm," Wesker responded without emotion. His eyes wandered from the screen Claire and Leon were on to the screen where Steve could be seen sprinting. "The V-ii virus has been an overall failure." The comment made Elizabeth feel completely ashamed and guilty as she lowered her head, but the blond man arose to his feet and gazed down at her with eyes displaying slight interest. "But if those little pests are exterminated I believe that our remaining samples can create some promising weapons. One dose turned a regular college boy into a winged predator; imagine what it could do to someone much more powerful. It could create something capable of wiping out entire city populations in minutes."

"You believe that?" Elizabeth asked, her pink eyes almost sparkling with delight at the compliment she had received from the man she adored. She felt a little tingle as Wesker brushed some of her sandy blonde hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"It is a fact," he told her. "I have just witnessed the effects of the virus myself; I can accurately describe its potential." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, hearing her gasp sharply in shock. He stifled a smirk as he tilted her chin up, making her face him. "But there is one more virus you must show me," he reminded. "You created your own experimental virus which you infused yourself with: the VX-Virus. Correct?" Elizabeth nodded, still speechless, much to Wesker's enjoyment. "I want you to show me how powerful the VX-Virus is, Elizabeth," he continued. "Prove to me how strong it is by using it to destroy those rats. Prove to me how strong _you_ are."

"Albert..." Elizabeth reacted, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed at him as if overtaken by her romantic attraction. A part of her also sounded hesitant, as if she was not ready to use the virus, but she tried to remind herself that she would do anything for Wesker. To further persuade her, Wesker grabbed the back of her head and forced her into what Elizabeth believed was a passionate, loving kiss. A kiss of encouragement. A kiss of manipulation. Completely blinded by emotions, the female scientist accepted the kiss and wrapped her arms around the tall man, but just as she felt that maybe something was finally happening between them Wesker pulled away and pushed her back, grasping her shoulders.

"Kill them, Elizabeth," he commanded calmly. "Destroy them. Obliterate them." Elizabeth once again nodded her head while in a state of shock and bliss before her mind finally returned to Earth.

"I will," she affirmed. "I'll kill anyone for you, Albert."

"I know," Wesker smirked, then turning to look back up at the various monitors. "Be quick, Elizabeth; our little guinea pig looks like he wants a good fight. Demonstrate the VX-Virus' abilities on him."

"Consider it done," Elizabeth responded, practically bowing before leaving the room quickly. Wesker watched her leave and close the door behind her, then returning his gaze to the many screens.

"Hmph," he murmured, a half-smirk now on his face.

 _..._

Leon walked over to Claire and put a hand on her shoulder since she was still beside Mason's body.

"He's gone..." the woman wavered, her breath quivering as she shook her head, tears in her blue eyes. "I shouldn't have let him come here... He wasn't ready..."

"You acted fast because you wanted to rescue Steve," Leon acknowledged. "He wanted to rescue Steve, too, right? I doubt he would've wanted to stay behind."

"He didn't think this would happen," Claire shot back. "Did you not hear his dying words, Leon?! He wasn't like you, me or Steve! He wasn't prepared to lose his life today!"

"We can't change what happened," Leon said to her. "We can't go back in time and lock him in a room. We can't do anything to bring him back. You know that, Claire."

Claire couldn't let herself cry anymore. She was well aware that right now Steve, someone she had already failed once, was probably running to his doom. She stared at Mason one last time before barely turning her head to look at Leon. "We have to bring his body back when this is over," she managed to say. "We have to let his parents see him. They should see their son one last time and then bury him in his hometown." Leon solemnly nodded his head.

"Yeah," he quietly agreed as Claire stood up.

"Let's go," the girl finalised. "Steve needs us. Nobody else is going to die today."

 _..._

Steve darted down various hallways before swinging himself into what appeared to be a large abandoned dining hall. He came to a halt and panted through grit teeth, glancing around the room like an animal with fire in his eyes.

"Wesker!" he bellowed, hearing his voice echo through the large space. "Come out here and face me! I'm not running from you anymore!" There was no response. "This time it's a fight to the death! Only one of us will leave alive! You hear me?! I'm gonna fight you even if it kills me!" There was still no response. Steve clenched his fists and contained a frustrated scream. "I'm gonna get you for what you did to Mason! For what you did to me! I'm gonna get you for everything you've done; you've hurt so many people and taken so many lives!"

"Oh, please, stop whining!" came Elizabeth's voice. She had entered through a door at the opposite end of the hall. Steve's eyes locked onto her and he was already prepared for combat. This woman had assisted in killing Mason, and she was going to pay.

"You..." Steve hissed. Elizabeth merely tittered behind her hand.

"It's no lie when people say that teenagers are moody and violent," she observed as she paced past the tables. "And my, you sound like you enjoy complaining about things!"

"You killed my friend!" Steve barked tearfully. "My best friend!"

"Actually, you killed him," Elizabeth reminded with a smirk on her face. "While my V-ii virus hasn't transformed you, it is still beginning to dominate your mind. It reacted quicker than you could to your friend's manoeuvre."

Steve took a few strides forward. "I'm gonna kill you," he spat viciously. "I'm gonna tear you apart." Elizabeth only giggled again.

"I'd like to see you try," she challenged. "You don't even have full control over the Veronica-II plant. It controls you, clearly."

"Oh yeah?" Steve responded, calling forth two of his tentacles which burst into the room, shooting towards Elizabeth. Two of those skinny vines appeared in the blink of an eye and wrapped around them, squeezing them and pulling on them hard, causing Steve to wince painfully. Those vines were stronger than they looked.

"Did you honestly think I'd give you a weapon stronger than mine?" Elizabeth asked him in a mocking tone of voice. "My vines are faster than yours, and they're stronger. And, unlike you, I do not feel any control or pain from them."

Steve grimaced and then yelled out as Elizabeth's vines snapped his tentacles in half, prompting him to call them to retreat. He glared murderously at Elizabeth, trying to come up with a strategy, before wincing again and falling to his knees. His abdomen had started to throb painfully once more, and when he lifted his shirt he could see that the green veins had spread even more. For his physical form, this didn't look good.

"Aw, what's the matter?" Elizabeth taunted. "Does your tummy hurt again, little boy?" All Steve could so was sit there on his knees, pressing down on his pulsing scar as he silently stared at Elizabeth with hatred. He could see her grinning. "It's no fun if you sit there like a pathetic dog; a little discipline might do!" Elizabeth flicked one of her thin vines towards Steve, whipping past his cheek with enough force to make him fall onto his back. The fresh cut was stinging his sickly face, but all he did was blankly touch the wound with the tips of his fingers. Blood.

"Get up, boy!" Elizabeth demanded while laughing. "Don't make it _this_ easy for me to kill you! I want to have some fun, first!"

Steve slowly arose to his feet, stumbling slightly and supporting himself against one of the various chairs. He looked weak. He looked defeated, but the battle hadn't even begun. Elizabeth almost pitied him.

"You're nothing but a broken toy, Steve," she mocked, taking a few more steps towards him. "You need to be thrown out. Discared. Destroyed."

The redhead stared at her for a little longer before unwrapping his brown scarf from around his neck, dropping it on the table. He then removed his blue hoodie, and as he began removing his shirt Elizabeth chose to question his actions.

"What are you doing?" she asked him before chortling. "Are you surrendering? Is this your way of saying that you want to return to being used in the lab?" The woman shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sure Albert can still use you."

"I'm taking these clothes off because I paid for them," Steve corrected, his voice quiet but loud enough for Elizabeth to hear. "I like them. I don't wanna ruin them."

Elizabeth almost laughed sadly as Steve stood before her in nothing but his underwear. "You poor, poor boy," she reacted falsely. "You know I'm going to destroy you, don't you? At least you're prepared, but a fight would have been much nicer. You've always been the fighting type."

"Not all broken toys gets destroyed or thrown out," Steve interrupted, seeing Elizabeth's expression suddenly become one of curiosity. "Some of them get fixed." That smug smile was on the woman's face again before Steve added to his statement: "Or they become something new. They become better than they were before."

"You've clearly lost your mind," Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes as if she was unamused.

"Maybe so," Steve calmly replied as he walked even closer to the woman, "but let me just remind you that I am the son of a man who worked for Umbrella."

"You're starting to bore me," Elizabeth said flatly, frowning. Her vines were slithering into the room, ready to pierce through the boy.

"If I was someone else's son I'd be a little more hesitant," Steve continued before coming to halt a few metres away from Elizabeth. "I'd look for another solution. But I'm the son of a scientist. I'm bound to do something crazy."

"Okay, seriously, what are you playing at, boy?" Elizabeth questioned, her frown even more evident. She almost became uncomfortable when Steve grinned.

"I'm just playing your game," he responded, smoldering flames at his feet. He tried not to react to the pain he was beginning to feel throughout his body. He couldn't help but wince and cringe while growling and snarling. He fell onto all fours and started clawing at the floor, his growls gradually becoming lower and lower. Elizabeth cautiously took a few steps back, watching the teenager to see what exactly he was doing, although she already had a good idea. If her guess was correct then this should become a very interesting fight indeed.

Steve writhed around as his skin turned green and his eyes turned completely red, finally becoming even more monstrous. He let out a few screams of fear and agony, partially regretting his choice but knowing that right now there was nothing else he could do. The green veins on his abdomen had stretched across his whole body and hs began to grow in size, spikes ripping out of his skin on his shoulder. His spine curved and his hair turned a lighter colour, fire trickling down his body to control the transformation. When the flames went out, Steve reared up and let out a mighty roar which echoed throughout most of the facility.

Once again he had become the monster Alexia Ashford had created.

 _..._

Claire came to a halt when she heard the roar bouncing off the dark brown walls. Leon looked around, obviously paying attention to the sound but wearing a somewhat relaxed expression.

"That doesn't sound good," the man commented. "We'd better hurry if we wanna save Steve."

Claire looked horrified. She recognized this sound. She had heard it before; that roar sounded like a combination of a vicious B.O.W. and Steve himself. She didn't want to think about it, but a part of her knew exactly what had happened.

"...Let's go," she spoke before running as fast as she could, following the sound.

 _..._

Elizabeth wore a grin as she stared at the beast before her. "At last, you have finally succumbed to the virus!" she laughed. "You have resumed your truest form, and the V-ii virus will make sure to destroy your brain cells while you're in this state, since infection makes your mind weaker. You will finally be one of the finest Bio Organic Weapons to serve Albert and I!"

Steve stood there with his head hung, his back majorly hunched. But he slowly lifted his head, fixing his cold gaze onto the English woman. He snarled, baring his fanged teeth as he took heavy steps towards her. Elizabeth's grin faded, realizing that Steve still maintained control over his mind. There was no telling when the V-ii virus would take over, so she couldn't risk becoming his victim before that happened.

"I see; you want to play rough," she grumbled. "Very well, Steve. Let's play!" She flung her arms out to the side as her body went up in flames, burning away at her white lab coat and short, strapless black dress. While maintaining a humanoid form her skin turned green and her hair turned from sandy blonde to a dark purple colour, the texture appearing damp. Her ears poked out and became like the fins of a fish, and certain parts of her body became marked or scaled. Her sclera turned from white to black, her irises still containing that pink glow. Her lips went black as she grinned widely, now standing in this nude mutated form. This was the result of the VX-Virus being in her system.

The mutated woman let out a laugh as both of her forearms ignited like pyres, her vines slithering about the room slowly. She planned to use all of her abilities on Steve, and for Steve the plan was the same. Elizabeth had to prove herself to Wesker and Steve had to avenge his deceased companion.

With a great amount of speed, Elizabeth darted towards Steve as if she was in an ice-skating raise, sliding towards him with her pointed vines following her. She wore a sharp grin, seeing the infected boy just standing there. She thought that she would finish him with ease, but he moved at the last second. Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Steve's mutant form was able to jump unnaturally high. This was what he did when seeing the crazed woman skidding towards him, causing her to fly along the floor and crash into furniture before smacking against the wall. The large mutant turned his head and glared in her direction, awaiting her next move.

Elizabeth simply giggled as she turned around and regained her balance. "So jumping is your special ability, hm? That's easily prevented." She launched her vines forward, aiming to severely wound Steve's legs. Steve bounced up into the air to avoid the tendrils, but he had forgotten how many there were, not to mention he had also forgotten about their speed. The moment he jumped sealed the fate of his legs as Elizabeth made her vines wrap around them and dig into them. Steve let out a snarl of pain but managed to use his brute strength to violently rip the tentacles apart; he wasn't going to risk using his own because right now his mind was incredibly vulnerable.

The vines seemed to screech as they were torn, but no pain was dealt to Elizabeth. She simply seemed a little frustrated at the loss of some of her weapons, but she had plenty to spare. "Of course, reports state that you were designed to wield a large battle axe," the woman recalled. "I should be wary of your arms." A grin appeared on her face as she started to walk forwards. "That's not going to be a problem for me, it's just going to make this fight a little more interesting."

Steve locked his eyes onto Elizabeth, heavily breathing through his bared teeth. He took large and fast strides, bounding towards her, close to running on all fours. He pounced forwards with his long arms stretched out, aiming to land and catch the scientist in his grasp, but this didn't go according to plan. As he landed, Elizabeth raised her flaming arms and severely burned Steve's chest, stopping him from landing properly and causing him to let out a loud roar. Using her own strength she was able to throw him to the side, sending him crashing through tables and benches. Steve scraped his body as he was sent skidding across the room, but eventually he hit the wall and came to a halt. He used his harms to help him get back on his feet, watching Elizabeth closely. Instead of approaching her himself he decided to grab one of the long tables and throw it in her direction, but she was easy to deflect the projectile with one of her vines. Steve was struggling to think of a good strategy.

Elizabeth could see, even in his mutated state, that Steve was fumbling through his mind for ideas. He was never a military man; his only strategies involved running and shooting. Now he was in a form where shooting was not an option, and even if it was it would be useless against someone like her.

Deciding to take advantage of the currently-clueless Steve, Elizabeth sent all of her vines in his direction. Four wrapped around each arm and stretched him, making sure to also wrap around his hands so that he couldn't use his fingers. Steve let out a roar as he flailed his bleeding legs, managing to claw at the vines but not enough to free himself. He let out a loud roar as he did all he could to pull his arms away from Elizabeth's tendrils, even trying to uproot them from their source. He continued to strain himself and push himself to his limits, scratching with his feet and pulling his arms inwards so that he could use his teeth to bite at the vines. After a montage of what seemed like hopeless struggles, his efforts did not go to waste. One arm was torn free, and with that arm he ripped the other vines away and sprinted in Elizabeth's direction, picking up another table on the way and holding it in front of him as a shield to ram into her with.

Elizabeth put her fiery arms in front of her, setting the table alight. But as she did this Steve grabbed her by the head and squeezed, wanting to kill her as quickly as he could. He thought it would be like squishing a grape, but he had underestimated Elizabeth's strengths. He heard the muffled laughter of the woman within his fist as she grabbed onto his arm, burning him once again. Steve dropped her but was able to swat her to the side. He gave her a look of hatred and roared merely out of frustration, seeing her burst out laughing in response.

"Your virus is old, darling!" she mocked. "The t-Veronica will be of no use to Albert once he sees the magnificence of the VX-Virus! Yes, this virus shall be used to create Albert's perfect world! And if what I produce isn't enough, I'll gladly let him take as many samples as he needs from my own body!"

The woman's back was starting to distort and peel, bones protruding from it. She simply laughed even more through the pain of it, her pink eyes glowing brightly. "With this virus, Albert and I shall rule the world!" she chortled. "I will be his queen; together we will watch as the weak are punished and preyed upon by the strong! But if that vision is not to be, then I will gladly die for him! I will die so that he may find some use for my body; perhaps it will become the next tyrant or it will just be used to collect samples from, I don't honestly care! As long as it's useful to him!"

She laughed even more, so much that it scratched her throat. The bones in her back sprang out with a grotesque cracking sound and began to shape, a process which showed evidently the pain it caused its host. "Today will be the day I prove myself to him!" she continued. "I will eliminate you, the so-called "boy with potential"! I will eliminate you and your two other friends here! Then I will be deemed worthy to be crowned queen of the coming world; I may even birth a prince worthy of Albert's heritage!"

The bones had finished shaping and had developed flesh along them; they had turned into functioning wings which looked like ones which would belong to a demon or the devil himself. During the process two horns had sprouted out at the front of her head, and a long tail ripped out of her lower back with a barbed tip. Her feet had become claws which could function almost as well as hands.

Steve watched Elizabeth flap her wings and hover up into the air, making a move to grab her by the tail and pull her back down. The attempt was futile, as Elizabeth flicked her tail out of the way, using the barbed end to strike Steve across his eyes. Steve yelped and took a step back, one of his eyes having blurred vision from the attack. He could only watch as Elizabeth flew about the room high out of his reach, but he knew that he could still get to her. Despite the pain in his legs, he was able to hop up high and grasp her foot, dragging her back down to the ground.

"You pest," Elizabeth scoffed, whipping his arm with her tail and tearing open some of his green flesh. Steve snarled and let out a loud and monstrous yell, smashing Elizabeth repeatedly against the floor and against the wall as if he were a child throwing around a rag doll. He hoped that some major damage would be done to her, but after throwing her as hard as he could across the hall and against a wall he was shocked to see her get back on her feet; even some B.O.W.s could suffer from broken bones from an attack like that.

Stretching out her crooked wings to straighten them up again, Elizabeth grinned. "You're going to tire yourself our eventually," she mused. "Come on then, boy. Keep beating me! Give it all you've got, then when you're tired I'll put you down like an old, useless dog!"

Steve didn't allow himself to remain in shock for too long, snarling once again through his fangs. He prowled towards her, thinking carefully about what to do, but as he thought he had completely forgotten to keep his guard up. The vines all wrapped around him from behind and dragged him backwards, causing him to fall to the ground onto his curved back. Steve let out a screech as he desperately fought against the thin tendrils, but a few had even wrapped around his neck and started choking him.

Elizabeth strolled over to him and walked onto his stomach, seeing him trying even harder to break free so that he could grab her and continue fighting. The mutated woman emphasized a pout as she gazed down at him.

"It looks like your fun ends here, boy," she announced. "Now, how should I end it? Should I start here?" She dug her clawed foot into his abdomen, listening to him snarl louder and attempt to arch his back. She smirked at his reaction, digging her claws into his flesh even further. "How about here?" She leaned down and grabbed his face with her clawed fingers, pressing two fingers into his eyes. Steve shrieked and thrashed even more, powerless against her. "How about like this?" Her vines suddenly set alight, burning at Steve's flesh and causing him to screech as loud as he could. Elizabeth pulled her hand away from his face and laughed. "Such fun!" she sang, flapping her wings and pulling her foot out of Steve's stomach. "It might be best to end it like how Alexia ended it." The winged woman snapped her fingers, calling forth some of the fiery tentacles which had wrapped around Steve's neck. She smirked down at Steve, and Steve, despite his damaged vision, could see that she was getting read to impale him with her tendrils. "Cheerio, Steve Burnside!" the scientist yelled before her tentacles fired down and prepared to pierce Steve's body. Steve's eyes went wide, but he knew that he could not die here. He had to protect Claire from this insane creature. He had to avenge Mason.

The mutated teen howled, flexing his arms with all of his strength, snapping the imprisoning vines in the process. Knowing that his next move would be agonizing, Steve grabbed the vines which had tried to impale him. His hands burned and all he could do was roar as a reaction, but he squeeze and pulled until he had uprooted these tendrils from their source beneath the facility. The remaining tentacles wrapped around his body were easily torn off, much to Elizabeth's annoyance; damaged vines were next to useless.

The winged mutated form of Elizabeth Bryant swooped down with her clawed hands in front of her, a scowl on her face. "Fine then, I'll kill you with my own hands!" she yelled. Steve simply stared at her blankly, and at the last second, as she was mere inches away from him, his own tentacles broke into the room and caught her. Because of their large size and her small body, one tentacle was enough to wrap around her and squeeze her. Elizabeth growled but let out a small laugh, knowing that Steve would succumb permanently to the V-ii virus if he used his plant-based limbs. Still, she knew that she had to continue fighting, allowing her entire body to erupt into a flaming inferno. She burnt her way out of the tentacle, but another swatted her against a wall.

Steve was now letting out all of his rage, no longer holding back even if he caused himself agony. He leaped forwards and landed on Elizabeth, raining down punches from his large fists. Her flaming body burned him but he did not care. He then used his massive hands to clutch her wings and rip them from her body, a delightful scream of pure pain emitting from her lips. Using one of her wings almost like a protective glove, Steve lifted Elizabeth by one of her arms, tearing off her tail and striking her with it a few times, ripping the flesh beneath her fire. The loss of both her wings and her tail caused her so much agony that she could hardly focus on maintaining her fiery form, and as her flames began to die out Steve only started to batter her further. Like before, he started to slam her hard against the ground, then against the wall, then against the ground again before throwing her along the floor and sending her crashing into some of the already-fallen dining hall furniture. He bounded towards her and pounced on her like a lion catching an antelope, then used his own fangs to bite off her now-cracked horns. Elizabeth helplessly put up her arms to defend herself, but Steve bit into them and even tore off some of her scaly green flesh. At times his teeth reached her bones. Still attempting to fight back, Elizabeth clawed Steve's chest with her feet, but no matter how hard she tried she barely injured the infected teenager. Soon enough, she had lost enough blood and sustained enough injuries that she was reduced to her human form. At this point, Steve came to a stop.

Elizabeth lay there, panting heavily, her face paler than usual. Her eyes were no longer pink but instead a brown colour - her natural colour before infecting herself with the VX-Virus. She was completely broken; defeated.

A part of Steve felt like this was enough. Perhaps crippling her like this was a better form of punishment. He was lowly growling down at her, his teeth still bared and his expression still one of rage.

Echoing footsteps entered the room, catching the attention of both Steve and Elizabeth. From the far end of the hall entered Albert Wesker. He stood by the door and stared with his golden eyes, an emotionless gaze on his face. He was holding the remaining samples of the VX-Virus and the V-ii virus which he planned to bring back to his lab at Umbrella's rival facility.

A broken and weak smile appeared on Elizabeth's face as she held out one of her damaged arms in Wesker's direction. She looked full of hope and relief. "Albert..." she wheezed. "You... You came for me..."

"Your virus is a remarkable one, Doctor Bryant," Wesker complimented, still standing across the hall with an emotionless expression. "Both of them are." A small smirk appeared on his face. "But I'm not here for you. I apologize if I gave you that impression."

Wesker simply started to walk through the ruined dining hall, heading for the other exit. Elizabeth's smile faded and her arm slowly dropped to the ground, her heart sinking as tears formed in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. "Albert...?" she croaked. "Albert... wait... I can still... be helpful..."

"Your job was to create new viruses stemming from the t-Veronica virus," Wesker mentioned as he walked casually. "You have provided me with two useful viruses. You are no longer needed."

Her tears continued to stream as she lay her head against the floor, too weak to sob too much. Steve crawled off her and snarled at Wesker dangerously as he passed by; he still wanted to kill this man for what he did. However, Wesker was quick to respond to the threat and took out a small handgun, pulling the trigger and firing a dart into Steve's shoulder. Steve growled and came to a sudden halt, reaching for the dart and pulling it out of him.

"That is poison," he explained. "It should give you a slow and painful death, but knowing you you'll probably survive its effects. If you do survive, know that I will come after you again. I will kill Claire Redfield, and I'll make you watch me do it."

Steve snarled and tried to go after him, but the effects of the poison were kicking in quickly. They were weakening him and slowing him down, so all he could do was watch Wesker leave the large room. With him gone, Steve could only turn his attention to Elizabeth, who still lay crying on the floor. He crawled towards her, once again looming over her broken body. The woman slowly looked up at him.

"...Go ahead..." she spoke out hoarsely. "Finish me off..." Steve only continued to stare down at her, thinking that leaving her was still the better option since she had no chance of recovering. His lack of movement is what caused Elizabeth to frown, lifting her head slightly. "What...? Do you think I'll thank you if you spare me, boy...? Just get on with it..." Still, Steve did not make a move. Elizabeth weakly clenched her teeth together, tears still rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto the floor. "Kill me, you dumb creature! KILL ME!"

Her whining was enough to make Steve obey, but also Steve concluded that she deserved death for what she did to Mason. By no means did he plan to make her death pleasant, so bared his teeth and opened his mouth wide, thrusting his head towards her throat.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	20. Lachrymal

**~Lachrymal~**

"Steve!" Claire called as she ran with Leon running beside her. She was incredibly worried; that roar she had previously heard had been far too familiar.

The pair eventually ran into the large dining hall, seeing that it had been completely wrecked. It was dark, so it was somewhat difficult to see. Leon cautiously walked beside her, his handgun at the ready; he had reloaded it after the previous fight with Mason, aware of other dangers that lurked within this old facility.

Claire stepped into the room hesitantly, her ears picking up the sound of hoarse and low breaths not unlike the sounds one would hear from a sleeping tiger or lion. Slowly she turned her head, only to gasp in fright upon seeing a large mutant creature hovering over the mauled corpse of Elizabeth Bryant. Leon was quick to step in front of Claire protectively, his finger on the trigger. The beast lifted its head in a way that made it seem like its head was heavy, slowly turning around to face the duo. A shiver ran up Claire's spine and she came close to vomiting in her own mouth.

"S...Steve..." she wavered, meeting the monster's yellow eyes. She quickly snapped out of her trance and pushed down Leon's arm. "Wait!" she cried. Leon gave her a confused stare; could she not see that this was not Steve anymore?

Steve's body had become weaker and slightly smaller due to the poison, but was still large in size. He stared at Claire before trying to drag himself away. She wasn't supposed to see him in this body again. Not after she had to suffer losing him, then losing Mason.

Claire quickly ran in front of him to stop him from moving away, although she was afraid of him suddenly snapping and attacking her. "Steve, it's me!" she told him. "Claire; remember? Do you remember me?"

Steve stared at her for a second before letting out a quiet but pained growl from within his throat. His body shrunk a little more, the mutation going down slightly. To Claire, this seemed to relieve her, but she became concerned when he collapsed onto his front and closed his eyes as though he were giving up.

"What's the matter...?" Claire asked him. "Are you hurt?" She examined him, but then Leon spoke up.

"Claire," he said, his voice somewhat solemn. He held the dart which had been fired at Steve. The skull and crossbones marked onto the dart was enough for Claire to understand what had happened, and she gasped in horror.

"Steve!" she cried, doing her best to wrap her arms around him. "You have to hold on, okay?! We can help you!"

The situation almost felt familiar to them both, but this time Claire was determined to save Steve's life. She turned her head to look back at Leon. "We're getting him outta here!" she told him. "We have to take him back to TerraSave now!"

"Claire..." Leon began hesitantly. "I don't think we have time."

"We have to try!" Claire cried out. "The Veronica virus might fight off the poison for a while!"

Steve re-opened his eyes, looking at Claire thoughtfully. He wasn't listening to her argument with Leon, he was only focusing on her. His vision was starting to blur, but he was determined to hold onto his life. The mutated teen forced himself to sit up, his expression showing that he was in agony. Claire attempted to steady him as he moved, but he didn't accept her help. He used his arms to drag himself towards the door, but he once again collapsed onto his front. He had grown even smaller, his size decreasing rapidly now. He went from being a somewhat humanoid monster to a regular human within seconds, but his human form did not look healthy. His bulbous green veins were still visible and that scar was still on his body, and his skin was almost grey aside from the dark purple bags hanging beneath his closed eyes.

"Steve, hold on!" Claire commanded, rushing over and trying to help him up. He was struggling to breathe and his body felt cold; Claire's immmediate reaction to his quivering was to dress him in the clothes he had thoughtfully left aside before choosing to battle Elizabeth. Leon watched her for a few seconds as she did this before speaking up.

"Do you know your way outta this place?" he asked.

"Yes," Claire answered shakily, wrapping Steve's scarf around his neck as the finishing touch to his human attire. Steve, only semi-conscious, curled up slightly, trembling as he attempted to warm himself in his clothing.

"Alright," Leon responded. "Take him outta here and get back to the TerraSave facility. Don't wait for me; I'm gonna get your friend's body and meet you there."

Claire lifted Steve so that he had one arm wrapped around her shoulder. "Right," she nodded. "Be careful; Wesker might still be here."

"I'll be fine," Leon assured. "It's you I'm worried about."

"He won't lay a hand on me or Steve," Claire stated, heaving Steve out of the dining room. Leon watched her leave, then running off in a different direction so that he could retrieve Mason's corpse. It was only right that the kid was given a proper burial.

Neither Claire or Leon spotted Wesker anywhere, meaning that he must have left with the virus samples Elizabeth had created. Claire almost felt bad for someone like Elizabeth as she had always had her emotions played with, but at the same time she felt nothing for her after what she did to both Steve and Mason.

Steve had fallen unconscious at some point, but partially woke up when Claire sat him in her truck. The pair were out. They were safe. Now Claire had a new mission: to get Steve back to TerraSave for treatment before it was too late.

The Redfield girl slammed her foot on the pedal and made her way back to the facility. At any given opportunity she broke the speed limit, knowing that going too fast would attract the attention of the authorities and ultimately slow her down.

And, after what felt like an eternity, she was back at the TerraSave facility. Safe.

The brunette hurried inside with Steve in her arms. "He needs help!" she wailed. "Please, someone! He's been poisoned!" It was during times like these that Dr Reynolds would be called upon, but now he was dead. But luckily he was not the only doctor at TerraSave; the organization was populated mostly by people who could respond to emergency aid requests quickly. Quite a few employees ran and abandoned their previous tasks so that they could help Steve, most likely because they respected Claire and did not want to let her down. Not only that, but Steve was a remarkable individual even if many found it difficult to comprehend his presence when he walked throughout the building; nobody had returned to life like he did. He would be a great speciment for research into cures; most people at TerraSave supported Claire's "Burnside Project" which was set up to work on curing even the most deformed mutants, and working on Steve would most likely help those involved with the project reach a milestone.

Steve was rushed to a medical ward; there were many spare since no victims of bioterrorist attacks had been rushed into the facility. Claire was there for the whole procedure, clutching Steve's hand and assuring him that he was going to be okay since at some point he woke up and let out a scream. Minutes later he was unconscious again, and remained that way even after the procedure was over.

The other employees left Claire alone with Steve, but after a few minutes Leon entered the ward and stood by her side.

"How is he?" he asked.

"...He's fine," Claire answered after a brief pause, glancing back at Leon. "Did you bring Mason back?" Leon nodded his head.

"Yeah," he responded. "Didn't see Wesker, either; he really must've took off."

"Coward," Claire spat hatefully, looking back at Steve as she stroked his hand. There was a silence for a few moments.

"Do you think he'll be alright when he wakes up?" Leon chose to ask, grabbing Claire's attention.

"What do you mean?" she responded.

"He mutated," Leon reminded her. "Do you think he'll be... normal?"

Claire was silent for a moment as she stared at Steve. "...I don't know," she admitted. "We can only hope for the best."

Leon folded his arms as he sat down on a chair beside Claire, sitting silently with her for a good few minutes before Steve began to stir very slightly. Claire moved so that she was on the edge of her seat, watching him with wide eyes as she filled with hope. However, Steve stopped stirring, instead parting his lips ever so slightly. It took some time before finally he made a sound.

"H...Ho..." he stuttered. "Ho...me..."

Claire stared at him strangely. "...Steve?" she reacted. Steve panted, trying to catch his breath, his eyes still closed as a croaking sound came from within his throat. Finally, he was able to murmur a few more words.

"Home..." he wavered. "Mom... dad... I... I want... I... I... wanna... g... go... h-h... h... home..."

Immediately sadness took over Claire's face, feeling Steve's hand as he attempted to tighten his grip around hers. His breaths were short and barely there, and his body shook slightly.

Claire used her other hand to stroke his forehead, brushing his red hair out of his face. Steve's head twitched a little, but suddenly his eyes snapped open and he jerked up, making an attempt to bite Claire's hand. Claire gasped and pulled away, luckily without being hurt. Steve had his teeth bared for a moment and Leon's hand was ready to whip out his handgun at any second, but Steve seemed to regain control of his mind. He stared at Claire in complete shock, seeing horror in the woman's eyes.

The virus was still in control of him.

Leon watched Steve for a few more seconds before easing himself, turning to face Claire. "He tried to bite you," he pointed out. "The Veronica virus... The V-ii virus... He can't fight them for long."

Steve knew that Leon was right, staring at him with pure fear. Did Leon intend to be his executioner? Is this where his story was going to end?

Claire looked horrified for a moment before shielding Steve with her body, scowling up at Leon. "Nobody is going to hurt him," she declared.

"He could succumb to the virus any second," Leon clarified.

"You can't kill him!" Claire snapped, tears welling up in her eyes. "I won't let anybody touch him; he's going to be fine!"

"Claire..." Steve croaked, his eyes glazing slightly. He lifted his hand sluggishly and placed it on her cheek, causing the girl to stare at him silently but with horror as she listened to his words. "I.. I don't... want... to... live..." the boy confessed, seeing the tears streaming down Claire's cheeks now. "I... I... only... lived... for... for you..." He swallowed his own emotions to restrain them, but it was evident in his reddening eyes that he wanted to cry. "Wesker... He'll... He'll... come back... He'll... hurt you... And... And... it... it will be my fault..." He took in a few sharp breaths and gasps, trying desperately to hold back his sobs. He clenched his teeth together but his lips were trembling, and now his eyes were glazing with tears. The redheaded teen shook his head a little. "If... If living... means... people... get hurt... If... If it means... you... get hurt... then... then..."

Claire grabbed the hand which was against her cheek, holding it firmly. "Stop it," she interrupted. "You're not going to die, Steve. You've been treated, you're fine..."

"No..." Steve denied. "Claire... I'm... I'm not... worth it..."

"Don't say that," Claire interrupted again. "You've come back from being dead. You have lived as a mutated creature - twice - and returned to human form. This virus won't destroy you; you can fight it!"

"I don't care about that!" Steve roared suddenly, clearly straining himself in order to speak loud and clear. His outburst caused Claire to fall silent and listen to him without cutting in, but he had to catch his breath first. "Doctor Reynolds... died... because of me... Mason... died... because of me... I... _killed_ Mason... And... Wesker... h-he said... he's gonna come for you... for everyone... He'll hurt... everyone... I love... including... you... and... he'll hurt... your brother... He won't... rest... until he... has me... A-And if... he does... get me... I'll... I'll suffer... again... I'll... I'll suffer years... of pain... torture... I... I can't do it again, Claire...! I can't... I can't take this anymore... Please; if... if killing me... means everyone here... is safe... then... then do it..."

Claire couldn't hold back her tears even as she bit down on her lip. Her face was red as she broke down sobbing, burying her face into Steve's bed. Leon looked away almost as if the scene before him was painful to watch; he didn't want to kill Steve, but he knew that it was the safest thing to do to make sure he didn't flip and hurt someone, and also it meant keeping people like Wesker away since Steve was someone he was desperate to get his hands on. It hurt for Leon to see Claire break down like this, and he knew that if she finally let go of Steve then he would be the one to end his life. That was something he knew he would live with forever if he did it.

"I can't lose you again!" Claire howled, grasping Steve's arm as she remained kneeling at his bedside. "I lost you once already; you've only just come back! And Mason... God, Steve, I can't take it! Please, please stop saying that there's no other way; there must be another way!"

"I can't be cured..." Steve reminded her tearfully. "Destroying the virus would kill me... Wesker wants to subject me to a life of pain and suffering... He wants to kill you... He wants to destroy TerraSave... and... and I'm a hazard to everyone here already, anyway... There's... There's no other way, Claire..."

The yellow-eyed teen looked to Leon, finding it difficult to hold back his own weeps. "A bullet to the head is quick, right...?" he asked. "It... It won't hurt too much, will it...?"

"...You won't feel a thing," Leon answered, not looking at him. "It's... a quick way out."

Claire sharply turned her head to gaze back at Leon with an angered and broken expression, her cheeks stained with tears and her lips wet from how much she had been crying. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Both of you, stop it! Nobody's going to die here! I can't let anyone else die!"

"Life is only pain to me now..." Steve whimpered to both Claire and Leon, tears leaking from his eyes every time he blinked. "It's painful... to take every single breath..." He inhaled shakily through his mouth as he stared at Leon, watching the man finally turn to face him. "Knowing that I was brought back as nothing... nothing but a tool... a monster... i-it leaves me clawing at my head every night... screaming..." He was starting to tremble even more, seeing that Leon had his hand on his gun, hesitating to take it out. "I will never return to society... I've got no family to go back to... There's nothing for me, anymore... My life... my existence... is a curse... I don't want to live if living means everyone around me suffers..."

"Don't do it!" Claire begged as she used her body to shield Steve. "Leon, I'm begging you! Don't do this! I'll never forgive you if you do it!"

Leon's soft eyes moved to look into hers. "And if I don't do it?" he asked her. "What then, Claire? Are we just gonna sit back and watch Steve change into a monster permanently?"

"No!" Claire answered. "That won't happen!"

"How do you know?" Leon pressed. "What if you wake up one morning and find that he has killed half the employees here?"

Claire was shaking even more, feeling like she was going to be sick from the stress. She looked Steve in the eyes, seeing his sorrowful expression. He was trying to tell her silently that there was no other choice.

But there was.

And Claire remembered it.

She swiftly turned her head to look back at Leon, almost twitching due to how much panic she was feeling. "Alexia..." she recalled. "Alexia froze her body for fifteen years! It takes fifteen years for the Veronica virus to adapt to the host; we can freeze Steve and he'll be okay!"

Leon listened to her, thankful that an alternative to killing Steve had been suggested. However, he had his doubts. "Do you even know how to preserve a living person?" he asked. "And do you have the facilities to do such a thing here?"

"Mason's body will be in the morgue right now," Claire responded, her crying finally ceasing. "I'm sure that we can use one of those chambers and modify it slightly."

"Maybe," Leon responded, taking his hand away from his handgun. "Or we can construct a chamber specifically for the purpose of cryogenically freezing a living person based on the knowledge anyone may have of Alexia's hibernation."

"Chris saw the chamber," Claire recalled. "We can get him to help, along with some of the workers here; I think some of them have worked with preserving organisms before."

Leon smiled very slightly and very briefly. "We should go and talk to everyone who works here for help and ask for their connections if they have any," he suggested.

Still with tears in her eyes, Claire stood up and smiled. "We can do this!" she cried with joy, then looking at Steve. He looked terrified, and his fearful expression made her smile fade. Once again she was kneeling beside him, a hand on his arm.

"Steve..." she said softly. "Steve, we'll be able to finally help you conquer the virus. You'll wake up and finally be in control."

"Fifteen years...?" he wavered. "I... I'm gonna be asleep for... fifteen years...?" Claire stroked his shoulder sadly.

"I promise, everything will be fine," she assured him. "The Ashfords weren't the only ones to know about cryogenic freezing; we'll be able to do this right."

Steve's eyes met hers. "I... I..." he stuttered. "I... I don't... know..."

"I'm not losing you again," Claire told him. "And I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. You've got a second chance at life, Steve; live it."

Steve stared at her, still with terror in his gaze. While he had always convinced himself that he wanted to die, he chose to live because of Claire. Nothing had changed; he only wanted the best for Claire, and if cryogenic freezing was truly an option... he would take it. Fifteen years was a long time, but at least he was guaranteed to open his eyes again after the process.

Leon stepped over to the bed. "You still need to recover from you surgery," he said. "Claire and I should go and talk to the other employees about setting something up for you; we need to do this as soon as possible just in case the virus is multiplying in you brain at a rapid speed."

Slowly Steve nodded his head. "I... I understand..." he responded slowly. Claire squeezed his hand and lovingly kissed his forehead.

"You're gonna be just fine," she reassured. "I'll come back later, okay? I'll bring you some food; I know you're always worried about going hungry."

Steve said nothing in response. All he did was nod his head before looking away. He honestly had no idea about what to say; he had been so prepared to die a few moments ago, and the room was fully of tension and stress, but now everything was easing. Claire had found a solution for him. But fifteen years... could he really do it?

 **~End of Chapter~**


	21. Frozen

**~Frozen~**

Steve was provided with the food Claire had promised him that day, and it felt great to eat so much. It took three days for Steve to recover, then he was released from the ward. Claire and Leon both did everything they could in order to build the perfect cryogenic chamber, but Steve acted like nothing was going on. In all honesty, he didn't want to think about being frozen for fifteen years. But the day soon came when Claire came into his room.

"Good morning," she said softly. Steve, who was only in his boxers since he hadn't gotten himself dressed, gave her a glum reply.

"What's good about it?" he grunted. Claire let out a sigh.

"Steve, we've been over this," she reminded him. "You're gonna be just fine, alright?"

"Fine?" Steve responded lowly, lifting himself into a sitting position as he glared at Claire. "I'm going to be asleep, frozen, for fifteen whole years. I won't see you for fifteen years. I won't be awake on my eighteenth birthday. Or my twenty-first. I'll wake up and I'll be over thirty years old, Claire, and I won't even know how to pay bills."

Claire sat on the bed beside him, wrapping her arm around him and holding him close. "Steve," she began again. "You're going to wake up and finally be in control of the virus in your system. You won't get these weird cravings for flesh and you won't find yourself slowly mutating and descending into a savage state. When I wake you up, I'll help you in any way I can so that you can catch up with important things you miss. You won't have to worry about anything; not your virus or adult life. I promise, you won't suffer anymore."

Steve held onto her with both hands, his face buried in her shoulder. He was scared. Fifteen years was a long time; that was most of his own lifetime so far. He enjoyed being a teenager and having fun. He enjoyed being a young guy who had an excuse for being immature.

Not too long ago he would sit in a classroom with Mason and a few other guys. Together they would make jokes about other classmates and their teachers. They would draw inappropriate symbols into their textbooks and would show the images to one another. They were so immature but Steve loved remembering those times. Times when life was so normal and so innocent.

But now all of that was gone. He would never go back into education. He wouldn't return to his class and announce to everyone that he was still alive. Even if he did do that, nothing would be the same. His mind was still scarred from everything he had suffered, and he knew that he would no longer catch a bus and say "Bye, Mason" as one of his closest friends exited the vehicle at his stop. He wouldn't listen to his MP3 player, gazing out the window, until his stop arrived. He wouldn't walk along the road before reaching his house where his mother and father would be waiting. His house had probably been destroyed after the raid. Looted. His entire past life was gone.

The thought of waking up as a grown man made things worse. He was already coping with the fact that his best friend was dead. He was still grieving for his mother and father. He still had to live with the fact that he was infected with a deadly virus; the V-ii virus had since been dealt with but the t-Veronica virus would be there forever. And he also had to live with all of his painful memories. Memories of the night he was taken. Memories of Rockfort. Memories of Antarctica. Memories of Umbrella's rival company. All of this was hurting him so much, and now he had to deal with the fact that he would wake up as an adult in a new world. Claire would be different; she may even find a man to be with. She may go with Leon. And he could do nothing to stop her because he was going to be asleep for over a decade.

Claire stroked his back softly. "You're going to be alright," she assured him. "The more you think about it, the more it's going to scare you... It won't be like anything you've already been through, I promise. You won't feel any pain and you'll be safe until you wake up, and I will be the first person you see when you next open your eyes."

Steve was still clinging onto her as though his life depended on it. "You keep making promises," he pointed out, "but will you really be there for me in fifteen years? Don't make promises you can't keep, Claire; I hate it when people break their promises."

"I would never lie to you, Steve," Claire reassured. "Ever. You mean so much to me; you mean _everything_ to me. I don't ever want to see you hurt again."

Steve whimpered slightly. "Claire..." he muttered, then being pushed away gently by the girl.

"We should really get you down there," the brunette said to him. "It might take a while to put you under."

It hurt Steve to think about having to hurry and get it all over with, but he nodded his head slowly and held Claire's hand as she walked him through the facility, heading down underground to a secure room where Steve's cryogenic chamber waited.

The walk felt longer than it was, and at some point Steve's vision blurred as he felt his hunger for flesh trying to overwhelm his mind. But, upon entering the secure laboratory, he snapped out of his thoughts of devouring flesh and blood.

"Mr Burnside," addressed a scientist holding a clipboard. "You'll need to remove all of your clothing before we can proceed."

All of it? He was barely wearing anything at this point. The teen looked at Claire awkwardly, but she just let out a quiet sigh.

"Just do as they say, Steve," she said to him. Steve's expression saddened slightly but he did as he was told, using his hands to cover himself up. This was really embarrassing, but it wasn't as bad as when he was being held by Wesker; he spent months in a cold room with nothing, having to sleep on cold surfaces.

"Stand over here, please," the same scientist commanded, gesturing near to the cryogenic chamber. "We need to insert some wires into you."

Steve glared, tempted to clench his fists, but Claire put a hand on his shoulder. The pair met eyes with one another for a moment before Steve hesitantly chose to step forward. A few other scientists rubbed his arms and legs down with numbing cream, but he still felt it when the first tube pierced into his inner elbow joint. The redhead winced and scowled at the scientist responsible; while it did not cause him major pain, he had become so used to being tormented that he expected a great agony to follow the sensation.

"Steve," Claire spoke softly, seeing how tense he was becoming. "If you tense yourself like that, it'll only hurt you even more..."

The teen chose to relax his muscles, but he still hated it whenever he felt one of the tubes piercing into him. He stared at the ground with a frown on his face, but Claire gently lifted his head by his chin so that the boy was looking at her. His expression was one of discomfort, and his golden eyes had tears in them which were being restrained.

"I know you're afraid," the woman said to him. "I know you don't want it to be this way, and trust me, I wish it could be easier. But there's no better solution. This is the best we can do for you if you wanna live, Steve."

"Maybe I don't want to live," Steve shot back, his lips twitching as he kept his tears in his eyes. "Maybe I find living too hard, Claire."

"Stop it," Claire demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders. "I know it's hard, Steve. I've watched you suffer, and it hurts me to see you in so much pain. That's why I'm going to do everything I can to make life worth living for you. You can trust me, Steve; I'll do anything if it makes you happy. There must be something that can make you smile."

Steve glanced to the side sadly but thoughtfully. "...Be here for me," he murmured in response. "I wanna wake up... and see you in front of me."

Claire smiled a little, putting one of her hands on his cheek. "I'll be here," she assured him. "I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?" Steve nodded tearfully before suddenly pulling her close.

"Claire..." he whimpered into her shoulder. The sudden embrace caused tears to well up in Claire's own eyes as she wrapped her arms around him shakily, but she knew that she could not break down in front of him; that would only make him feel worse.

"It's okay," she hushed. "Everything's going to be okay, Steve."

"I'm scared," Steve admitted. "What if I never wake up? What if something goes wrong?"

"Nothing will go wrong," Claire informed him gently, rubbing his cold back. "I'll make sure of that. Everyone here will."

Steve pulled away, wiping his eyes on his hand while being careful not to pull out any of the wires. He wanted to smile at Claire but he just couldn't. He was too worried. He was nervous. His knees were close to giving way, but he knew he had to be strong. He had to be strong for Claire. He had to be the strong young man raised by his parents, who did everything to turn him into a strong person.

"Then I'm ready," he decided, though he almost sounded uncertain in his words. "I'm ready, Claire."

Claire shakily nodded her head, helping him to stand in the chamber while holding back the liquid trying to escape from her eyes. She gripped his hand tightly and was hesitant when letting go.

"Is there anything else you want me to do for you when you wake up?" the brunette asked in a wavering tone. Steve seemed to think before finally he managed to smile somewhat sadly.

"Would it be too much to as for a dog?" he requested. "I've... always loved dogs. My dad was gonna get a family dog when we moved to Raccoon City but... the move never happened."

Claire chuckled softly, wiping away her tears with her other hand. "Anything for you," she responded. Steve gave her hand a final squeeze.

"I love you, Claire," he told her. Claire's lips trembled as she struggled to hold back her emotions, but she was still able to refrain from breaking down.

"I love you, too..." she whimpered. Steve's hand slipped out of hers as the glass closed, separating the two. A cold liquid began to fill the chamber quickly once Steve placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. The liquid would cause any normal human being to yelp at the feeling of a cold stabbing sensation, but Steve only shuddered. It was merely seconds before the chamber was full of the aqua-coloured liquid, and his vision was now blurred. He was still able to identify the figure which was Claire, staring at her until he was forced to see nothing but black, his eyelids dropping.

His eyes remained closed for fifteen whole years.

 **~End of Chapter~**


	22. Epilogue

**~Epilogue~**

 _Fifteen years later..._

Moira Burton followed Claire down the steps, carrying a neatly-folded towel along with some clothes.

"So what's down here, exactly?" she asked. "Is it actually a person?"

"Yeah," Claire responded, reaching the bottom of the staircase and opening a heavy door by using a passcode. "He's been asleep for fifteen years."

"Damn," Moira reacted. "I don't think I could ever sleep for as long as that."

Claire chuckled quietly as she walked with Moira following close behind. "You sound a lot like him," she pointed out. "He didn't think he could sleep for this long, either. But it looks like he's made it."

Moira stopped walking and turned her head away. "And he's naked," she added. "Very, very naked."

"He wouldn't have frozen properly if he was wearing clothes," Claire stated. "And he was gonna grow out of them, anyway. I just hope these clothes fit him."

Claire approached a metallic panel beside the machine and once again pressed a few buttons before taking a step back and staring at the unconscious Steve through the glass, waiting to see what would happen.

At first nothing happened at all, but suddenly Steve's eyes snapped open. He took in a large breath through his oxygen mask and wore a look of terror.

The liquid around him drained quickly and the glass opened, causing Steve to stumble out. Claire was quick to catch him despite the fact he was quite heavy, and she removed the wires along with the oxygen mask. The pair fell to their knees, with Steve trying to catch his breath.

Claire turned to look back at Moira. "Hand me the towel," she commanded. Moira nodded and rushed over, doing everything she could to avoid looking at Steve. Claire whipped the towel out of Moira's grasp and wrapped Steve up, briefly using the towel to dry his soaked hair . The woman wrapped her arms around him tightly as he huddledinto the towel, teeth chattering as he trembled.

Steve slowly lifted his head, his eyes glazed over as if he were unwell. He had barely any idea of what was going on. The man opened his mouth to speak, struggling for a long few moments before finally he was able to get the words out. "Who... Who... are you...?" he asked breathlessly. "Where's... Where's Claire...? Is... Is she... okay...?"

His words struck Claire in the heart. He didn't recognise her.

"Steve..." she replied, holding her hand against his cheek. She stared into his yellow eyes and he gazed back with empty confusion, but the woman could see his eyes coming back to life once he was hit with realisation.

"C...Claire...?" he stuttered, his voice deeper than it used to be. She looked so different now. She looked so much older. He lifted up one hand, using the other to keep the towel wrapped around himself, and placed it against Claire's hand.

"It's me..." Claire assured. Steve's hand was so cold and still damp from being submerged in liquid for fifteen years. "You're awake now, Steve... You're okay..."

Steve could only stare at her as if he were staring at a ghost. "Fifteen years..." he muttered. "Have I really made it...?" Claire smiled and him and nodded his head, holding him close.

"You've made it..." she answered.

"Okay, okay, I'm confused," Moira cut in. "Just who is this guy, Claire?"

Steve looked up at Moira with confusion. In his head he thought that she was older than him, but he had to remind himself that he was now... thirty-two years old.

Claire helped Steve stand, turning to face Moira. "He's an old friend," she responded. "I met him not too long after the Raccoon City incident."

"Yeah, you're forgetting the part where you tell me why he was frozen," Moira retorted, handing the clothes she was holding to Steve before passively saying to him: "Please, put these on."

As Steve went into the corner of the room to change, Claire quietly answered Moira. "He was infected with the t-Veronica virus. In order to save him from being infected, we had to freeze him for fifteen years."

"Wait, was he the guy that...?" Moira finished her question by clawing her hands and baring her teeth, letting out a few monster-like growls.

"Yeah," Claire replied sadly.

"I swear he died," Moira pointed out.

"He did," Claire clarified, "but the virus brought him back to life. After that he was constantly being pursued by Wesker while trying to fight the virus in his system, and believe me, Wesker and his associates were doing everything they could to make him submit to the virus' effects. Eventually it came to a point where he had to be frozen so that his body could adapt to the Veronica virus, and to keep him safe from capture we had to label him as dead. Wesker believed that we had incinerated his body."

"Wow, another person's story which proves that Wesker was a dick," Moira reacted as Steve walked back over, dressed in jeans, a button-up black shirt and a dark brown blazer. These clothes made him look quite mature, and the fuzz on his face definitely made him look older.

Claire turned to look at him, smiling. "Well, look at you," she responded. "You look like quite the man now, Steve."

"You think?" Steve asked, almost as if needing to be reassured that he looked like his current age. Claire chuckled at his response, taking him by the hand and pulling him close to her side.

"You look amazing," she told him before turning her attention back to Moira. "Oh, and by the way, this is my friend, Moira."

Steve awkwardly lifted his free hand as a casual wave. "Hey," he muttered. Moira returned the awkward wave, and after that Steve once again had his eyes on Claire.

"So, what have I missed?" he asked.

"Well, after we froze you there were a few more instances involving the t-Veronica virus," Claire explained. "Leon told me about a girl named Manuela who was infected from a sample taken directly from you."

"What happened to her?" Steve queried, intrigued.

"She was fine," Claire answered. "She was taken into government custody and she has remained a human since."

"But how did she manage to remain as a human?" Steve pressed.

"Leon said something about her having her organs replaced regularly," Claire recalled.

"Huh," Steve reacted thoughtfully. "...So, where is Leon these days?"

"I don't see him much," Claire admitted. "He gets all the action with these virus outbreaks now. I don't get as involved anymore."

"Except for one incident three years ago," Moira reminded, seeing Claire nod in agreement. Neither woman chose to speak further regarding that incident.

"I see..." Steve murmured, then hesitating for a moment. "...W... What about Wesker?"

"Dead," Claire confirmed. Steve was silent for a moment.

"...Dead?" he repeated.

"Dead," Claire said again. "My brother killed him five years ago. He had infected himself with his own new virus, but Chris blew him up. There's no way he's ever coming back." Steve looked down slightly with a confused expression. Claire tilted her head, appearing concerned. "Steve...?"

"It should've been me," Steve growled to himself. "I should've killed him. He should've seen my face before he died."

Claire squeezed his hand. "Wesker hurt a lot of people," she reminded him. "My brother was one of those people. Wesker had lied to him and his team and tried to kill him."

"He hurt me, too," Moira added, shrugging her shoulders. "Just saying."

"Exactly," Claire said. "So many people suffered because of that man, Steve... Chris avenged them all."

Steve thought about Claire's words but still couldn't help but feel irritated that he didn't watch Wesker die, but he nodded his head silently.

"Come on," Claire said to him. "There's a lot you need to catch up on, but first I've gotta show you something." Still holding his hand, Claire led Steve up the stairs with Moira following the pair.

Claire led Steve to a room but quickly halted him, lifting his hands and making him cover his face. "Close your eyes," she instructed, then slowly luring Steve into the room. She stopped him once again before saying: "Now, sit down." Again, Steve did as he was told and sat on the ground. It was silent for a moment before suddenly there was a pattering sound on the floor, as if something was running towards him. He then felt something small jump into his lap, pressing what may have been its hands against his chest while trying to sniff and lick his face. Instinctively Steve opened his eyes and saw that a little Doberman puppy was excitedly wagging its tail while trying to climb up him. Steve gasped softly, lifting the small dog up so that it could happily lick his face. The man laughed with tears already in his eyes.

"Hey there, little guy!" he greeted with joy.

"TerraSave doesn't just rescue people," Claire stated. "We also rescue animals which are used for creating Bio Organic Weapons. These puppies had been bred so that they could be turned into Cerberuses, and we even rescued some of the adults. It's been harder to find homes for them, though..."

Steve, still holding the puppy, looked up at her with sadness in his eyes. "Wait, you mean they're stuck here...?" he questioned.

"Most of them have a deformities from their infection," Claire explained. "Nobody wants a dog that looks like a zombie..."

"We take care of them here, though," Moira assured proudly. "I like feeding them. They're super sweet; I'd take some home myself but... I doubt my family would be as accepting."

"They shouldn't be left to rot in a facility..." Steve commented, still occupying himself with the pup. "I wish I could take them all; I know how it feels to be seen as a monster. I just... I don't have a home, and if I do get one it'll probably be some apartment somewhere."

Claire tilted her head. "You'd take them?" she asked him.

"Of course I would," Steve replied, now tapping his hand on the floor and letting the puppy chase it playfully.

"If you take them, you've gotta let me see 'em every once in a while!" Moira pointed out. Steve looked up at her.

"I can't take them," he reminded her. "I don't have a place for them, let alone myself."

Moira smiled, nudging Claire's arm. "Tell him," she said quietly. Steve overheard her and looked intrigued.

Claire was quiet for a few seconds before figuring out how to announce the news to Steve. "We saved your house," she revealed.

Steve was just staring at her, almost as if he hadn't heard her right. "...My house?" he recapped.

"Yes, Steve," Claire nodded. "The authorities were gonna empty it out, but Mason and I bought it. We were gonna clear it out ourselves, but then we found you alive. We wanted to surprise you with it, but... well, a lot of things happened."

His house. The house he thought would be long gone by now. Was this a dream? Was he dead?

Claire smiled a little. "So... you can go and do what you want with the house," she concluded. "You can move back in, clear it out or keep everything as it was... and if you really think you can handle it, you can take the mutated dogs there, too."

Steve stood up, holding the puppy in one arm and wrapping the other arm around Claire. Tears of happiness leaked from his eyes. "Thank you..." he thanked softly. Claire rubbed his back, a smile on her own face.

"Anything for you, sweetie," she responded.

Sweetie. It was so strange to hear her say it, but it felt so right.

"So, what are you going to call this little guy?" Claire asked, using her other hand to tickle the puppy's chin. Steve glanced down at the small dog and smiled.

"Luger," he replied. Claire chuckled slightly.

"Luger?" she repeated.

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I think it suits him."

"Little Luger," Claire said, still petting the excitable puppy. She then leaned up and kissed Steve on the cheek. "You really are a great guy, Steve. Remember that."

Steve almost blushed but smiled at Claire. "I can never forget your words, Claire," he told her.

"Okay, you two are definitely more than just friends" Moira confirmed. Steve and Claire looked at her before laughing together.

 _..._

Leon had asked Claire how Steve was doing some weeks after he was first awakened. He had been talking to her using online messages but hadn't been able to see either her or Steve in person.

"How is he?" his message said.

Claire had responded by sending a picture of Steve sitting in the living room of his old house, a bright smile on his face as he held Luger the puppy while other adult dogs surrounded him, looking content despite their various mutations.

"He's doing just fine," Claire's following message assured.

Leon couldn't help but smile when seeing the picture. Steve was a troubled boy fifteen years ago, with so many psychological and physical problems. And now, as a grown man, he looked so happy and free.

Something told him that Steve was finally going to be alright.

 **~End of Story~**

 _Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story! It was fun to write and I loved reading everyone's reviews! I might write a sequel or a one-shot showing Steve living his new life, but overall I'm happy with this conclusion. Thank you once again, everybody!_


End file.
